The life of William Ewart Gladstone

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THE LIFE

OF

WILLIAM EWART GLADSTONE

1»

:^*g?y^"'

oJtr/irA/i S/iacMone
frctn apainiinq h/ (Cilluim ^AnitHei^ .

V, y^-^^ f. r^..,Jt*rr/I^A t,

frcrn apiiinli/iq h/ (Ctlluim lAnuHei^ .

i . i A - !

V ^ i-: ]

GL. A 1^^ ; o:\i

j<'

Ck>FTBIOHT, 1908,

bt the macmillan company.

Set up, decuotyped, and publtihed October, 1903.

66^^668

^•^^

Hocfsooli ^fltfM

1. 8. Oaddnc A Go.— Berwiok A Smith Co.

Norwood, MsMm UAA.

TO THE

ELECTORS OF THE MONTROSE BURGHS

I BEG LEAVE TO

INSCRIBE THIS BOOK

m GRATEFUL RECOGNITION

OF

THE CONFIDENCE AND FRIENDSHIP

WITH WHICH

THEY HAVE HONOURED ME

NOTE

The material on which this biograf^y is founded
consists mainly, of course, of the papers collected at
Bawarden. Besides that vast accumulation, I have
been favoured with several thousands of other pieces
from the legion of Mr. Gladstone's correspondents.
Between two and three himdred thousand written
papers of one sort or another must have passed
under my view. To some important journals and
papers from other sources I have enjoyed free access,
and my warm thanks are due to those who have
generously lent me this valuable aid. I am especially
indebted to the King for the liberality with which
his Majesty has been graciously pleased to sanction
the use of certain documents, in cases where the
permission of the Sovereign was required.

Vhen I submitted an application for the same
purpose to Queen Victoria, in readily promising
ter favourable consideration, the Queen added a
message strongly impressing on me that the work
I was about to undertake should not be handled
m the narrow way of party. This injunction repre-

vii

YIU NOTE

sents my own clear view of the spirit in which the
history of a career so memorable as Mr. Gladstone's
should be composed. That, to be sure, is not at
all inconsistent with our regarding party feeling
in its honourable sense, as entirely the reverse of
an infirmity.

The diaries from which I have often quoted consist
of forty little books in double colmnns, intended to
do little more than record persons seen, or books
read, or letters written as the days passed by.
From these diaries come several of the mottoes pre-
fixed to oiu* chapters; such mottoes are marked
by an asterisk.

The trustees and other members of Mr. Gladstone's
family have extended to me a imiform kindness and
consideration and an absolutely unstinted confidence,
for which I can never cease to owe them my heartiest
acknowledgment. They left with the writer an
unqualified and imdivided responsibility for these
pages, and for the use of the material that they
entrusted to him. Whatever may prove to be amiss,
whether in leaving out or putting in or putting
wrong, the blame is wholly mine.

J.M.

1908.

CONTENTS

BOOK I

(1809-1831)

INTRODUCTORY 1

I. CHILDHOOD ......... 7

II. ETON 26

III. OXFORD 48

BOOK II

{1832-1846)

I. ENTERS PARLIAMENT 86

II. THE NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFICE . . . 116

III. PROGRESS IN PUBLIC LIFE 131

IV. THE CHURCH . 152

V. HIS FIRST BOOK 169

VI. CHARACTERISTICS 184

VII. CLOSE OF APPRENTICESHIP 219

VIII. peel's government , 247

IX. MAYNOOTH 270

X. TRIUMPH OF POLICY AND FALL OF THE MINISTER . 282

XI. THE TRACTARIAN CATASTROPHE 303

ix

Z CONTENTS

BOOK in

{1S47-J1862)

OHAPRB FAOB

I. MEMBER FOB OXFORD 327

II. THE HA WARDEN ESTATE 337

III. PARTY EVOLUTION — NEW COLONIAL POLICY . . 350

lY. DEATH OF SIR ROBERT PEEL 366

Y. GORHAM CASE — SECESSION OF FRIENDS . . . 375

YI. NAPLES 389

YII. RELIGIOUS TORNADO PEELITB DIFFICULTIES . . 405

Vm. END OF PROTECTION 425

BOOK IV

{1863-1869)

I. THE COALITION 443

II. THE TRIUMPH OF 1853 457

III. THE CRIMEAN WAR 476

lY. OXFORD REFORM — OPEN CIYIL 8ERYI0S . . . 4%

Y. WAR FINANCE TAX OR LOAN 513

YI. CRISIS OF 1855 AND BREAK-UP OF THE PEELITBS . 521

Yn. POLITICAL ISOLATION 644

Yin. GENERAL ELECTION — NEW MARRIAGE LAW . 66%

IX. THE SECOND DERBY GOYERNMENT .... 574

X. THE IONIAN ISLANDS 594

ZI. JUNCTION WITH THE LIBERALS 621

APPENDIX 635

OHBOJTOLOaY 654

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Sib John Gladstone Frontispiece.

From a painting by William Bradley.

William Ewart Gladstone .... to face page 86
Frcnn a painting by William Bradley.

Catherine Gladstone " 223

From a painting.

Ha WARDEN Castle " 337

Booft S

1809-1881
INTRODUCTORY

I AM well aware that to try to write Mr. Gladstone's life at
all — the life of a man who held an imposing place in many-
high national transactions, whose character and career may
be regarded in such various lights, whose interests were so
manifold, and whose years bridged so long a span of time —
is a stroke of temerity. To try to write his life to-day, is to
push temerity still further. The ashes of controversy, in
which he was much concerned, are still hot ; perspective,
scale, relation, must all while we stand so near be difficult
to adjust. Not all particulars, more especially of the
latest marches in his mde campaign, can be disclosed with-
out risk of unjust pain to persons now alive. Yet to defer
the task for thirty or forty years has plain drawbacks too.
Interest grows less vivid ; truth becomes harder to find out ;
memories pale and colour fades. And if in one sense a
statesman's contemporaries, even after death has abated the
storm and temper of faction, can scarcely judge him, yet in
another sense they who breathe the same air as he breathed,
who know at close quarters the problems that faced him, the
materials with which he had to work, the limitations of his
time — such must be the best, if not the only true memorialists
and recorders.

Every reader will perceive that perhaps the sharpest of
all the many difficulties of my task has been to draw the line
between history and biography — between the fortunes of the
community and the exploits, thoughts, and purposes of the
individual who had so marked a share in them. In the case
of men of letters, in whose lives our literature is admirably
rich, this difficulty happily for their authors and for our
delight does not arise. But where the subject is a man who

TOL. I B 1

2 INTRODUCTOBY

BOOK was four times at the head of the government — no phantom,
^ ^ J but dictator — and who held this office of first minister for a
longer time than any other statesman in the reign of the
Queen, how can we tell the story of his works and days with-
out reference, and ample reference, to the course of events
over whose unrolling he presided, and out of which he made
history? It is true that what interests the world in Mr.
Gladstone is even more what he was, than what he did ;
his brilliancy, charm, and power ; the endless surprises ; his
dualism or more than dualism ; his vicissitudes of opinion ;
his subtleties of mental progress ; his strange union of
qualities never elsewhere found together ; his striking un-
likeness to other men in whom great and free nations have
for long periods placed their trust. I am not sure that the
incessant search for clues through this labyrinth would not
end in analysis and disquisition, that might be no great
improvement even upon political history. Mr. Gladstone
said of reconstruction of the income-tax that he only did
not call the task herculean, because Hercules could not
have done it. Assuredly, I am not presumptuous enough
to suppose that this difficulty of fixing the precise scale
between history and biography has been successfully over-
come by me. It may be that Hercules himself would have
succeeded little better.

Some may think in this connection that I have made the
preponderance of politics excessive in the story of a genius
of signal versatility, to whom politics were only one interest
among many. No doubt speeches, debates, bills, divisions,
motions, and manoeuvres of party, like the manna that fed
the children of Israel in the wilderness, lose their savour and
power of nutriment on the second day. Yet after all it was
to his thoughts, his purposes, his ideals, his performances as
statesman, in all the widest significance of that lofty and
honourable designation, that Mr. Gladstone owes the lasting
substance of his fame. His life was ever ^greatly absorbedj'
he said, ' in working the instittUions of his country.' Here we
mark a signal trait. Not for two centuries, since the his-
toric strife of anglican and puritan, had our island produced
a ruler in whom the religious motive was paramount in
the like degree. He was not only a political force but a

INTRODUGTOBY 8

moral force. He strove to use all the powers of his own intro-
genius and the powers of the state for moral purposes and ^^^
religious. Nevertheless his mission in all its forms was '^ — y — '
action. He had none of that detachment, often found
among superior minds, which we honour for its disinterest-
edness, even while we lament its impotence in result. The
track in which he moved, the instruments that he employed,
were the track and the instruments, the sword and the
troweU of political action ; and what is called the Gladstonian
era was distinctively a political era.

On this I will permit myself a few words more. The
detailed history of Mr. Gladstone as theologfian and church-
man will not be found in these pages, and nobody is more
sensible than their writer of the gap. Mr. Gladstone cared
as much for the church as he cared for the state ; he thought
of the church as the soul of the state; he believed the
attainment by the magistrate of the ends of government to
depend upon religion ; and he was sure that the strength of
a state corresponds to the religious strength and soundness
of the community of which the state is the civil organ. I
should have been wholly wanting in biographical fidelity, not
to make this clear and superabundantly clear. Still a writer
inside Mr. Gladstone's church and in full and active sym-
pathy with him on this side of mundane and supramundane
things, would undoubtedly have treated the subject differ-
ently from any writer outside. No amount of candour or good
faith — and in these essentials I believe that I have not fallen
short — can be a substitute for the confidence and ardour of
an adherent, in the heart of those to whom the church
stands first. Here is one of the difficulties of this complex
case. Yet here, too, there may be some trace of compensa-
tion. If the reader has been drawn into the whirlpools of
the political Charybdis, he might not even in far worthier
hands than mine have escaped the rocky headlands of the
ecclesiastic ScyUa. For churches also have their parties.

Lord Salisbury, the distinguished man who followed Mr.
(Gladstone in a longer tenure of power than his, called him ' a
great Christian'; and nothing could be more true or better
worth saying. He not only accepted the doctrines of that
faith as he believed them to be held by his own communion ;

4 INTBODUCTOBY

he sedulously strove to apply the noblest moralities of it to
the affairs both of his own nation and of the commonwealth
of nations. It was a supreme experiment. People will
perhaps some day wonder that many of those who derided
the experiment and reproached its author, failed to see that
they were making manifest in this a wholesale scepticism as
to truths that they professed to prize, far deeper and more
destructive than the doubts and disbeliefs of the gentiles in
the outer courts.

The epoch, as the reader knows, was what Mr. Gladstone
called ^an agitated and expectant age.' Some stages of his
career mark stages of the first importance in the history of
English party, on which so much in the working of our
constitution hangs. His name is associated with a record
of arduous and fruitful legislative work and administrative
improvement, equalled by none of the great men who have
grasped the helm of the British state. The intensity of his
mind, and the length of years through which he held pre-
siding oflBce, enabled him to impress for good in all the
departments of government his own severe standard of
public duty and personal exactitude. He was the chief force,
propelling, restraining, guiding his country at many decisive
moments. Then how many surprises and what seeming
paradox. Devotedly attached to the church, he was the
agent in the overthrow of establishment in one of the three
kingdoms, and in an attempt to overthrow it in the Princi-
pality. Entering public life with vehement aversion to the
recent dislodgment of the landed aristocracy as the main-
spring of parliamentary power, he lent himself to two further
enormously extensive changes in the constitutional centre of
gravity. With a lifelong belief in parliamentary deliberation
as the grand security for judicious laws and national control
over executive act, he yet at a certain stage betook himself
with magical result to direct and individual appeal to the
great masses of his countrymen, and the world beheld the
astonishing spectacle of a politician with the microscopic
subtlety of a thirteenth century schoolman wielding at will
the new democracy in what has been called * the country of
plain men.' A firm and trained economist, and no friend
to socialism, yet by his legislation upon land in 1870 and

INTRODUCTOBY 6

1881 he wrote the openmg chapter in a volume on which INTRO-
many an unexpected page in the history of Property is to^,
destined to be inscribed. Statesmen do far less than they ^^ — ^ — ^
suppose, far less than is implied in their resounding fame,
to augment the material prosperity of nations, but in this
province Mr. Gladstone's name stands at the topmost height.
Yet no ruler that ever lived felt more deeply the truth — for
which I know no better words than Channing's — that to
improve man's outward condition is not to improve man
himself ; this must come from each man's endeavour within
his own breast ; without that there can be little ground for
social hope. Well was it said to him, * You have so lived
and wrought that you have kept the soul alive in England.'
Not in England only was this felt. He was sometimes
charged with lowering the sentiment, the lofty and fortifying
sentiment, of national pride. At least it. is a ground for
national pride that he, the son of English training, practised
through long years in the habit and tradition of English
public life, standing for long years foremost in accepted
authority and renown before the eye of England, so conquered
imagination and attachment in other lands, that when the
end came it was thought no extravagance for one not an
Englishman to say, * On the day that Mr. Gladstone died, the
world has lost its greatest citizen.' The reader who revolves
all this will know why I began by speaking of temerity.

That my book should be a biography without trace of
bias, no reader will expect. There is at least no bias against
the truth ; but indifferent neutrality in a work produced, as
this is, in the spirit of loyal and affectionate remembrance,
would be distasteful, discordant, and impossible. I should be
heartily sorry if there were no signs of partiality and no
evidence of prepossession. On the other hand there is, I
trust, no importunate advocacy or tedious assentation. He
was great man enough to stand in need of neither. Still
less has it been needed, in order to exalt him, to disparage
others with whom he came into strong collision. His own
funeral orations from time to time on some who were in one
degree or another his antagonists, prove that this petty and
ungenerous method would have been to him of all men
most repugnant. Then to pretend that for sixty years, with

6 INTfiODUCTOBY

all * the varying weather of the mind,' he traversed in every
zone the restless ocean of a great nation's shifting and com-
plex politics, without many a faulty tack and many a wrong
reckoning, would indeed be idle. No such claim is set up
by rational men for Pym, Cromwell, Walpole, Washington,
or either Pitt. It is not set up for any of the three contem-
poraries of Mr. Gladstone whose names live with the three
most momentous transactions of his age — Cavour, Lincoln,
Bismarck. To suppose, again, that in every one of the many
subjects touched by him, besides exhibiting the range of his
powers and the diversity of his interests, he made abiding
contributions to thought and knowledge, is to ignore the
jealous conditions under which such contributions come.
To say so much as this is to make but a small deduction
from the total of a grand account.

I have not reproduced the full text of Letters in the pro-
portion customary in English biography. The existing mass
of his letters is enormous. But then an enormous propor-
tion of them touch on affairs of public business, on which
they shed little new light. Even when he writes in his
kindest and most cordial vein to friends to whom he is most
warmly attached, it is usually a letter of business. He
deals freely and genially with the points in hand, and then
without play of gossip, salutation, or compliment, he passes
on his way. He has in his letters little of that spirit in
which his talk often abounded, of disengagement, pleasant
colloquy, happy raillery, and all the other undefined things
that make the correspondence of so many men whose
business was literature, such delightful reading for the idler
hour of an industrious day. It is perhaps worth adding that
the asterisks denoting an omitted passage hide no piquant hit,
no personality, no indiscretion ; the omission is in every case
due to consideration of space. Without these asterisks and
other omissions, nothing would have been easier than to
expand these three volumes into a hundred. I think nothing
relevant is lost. Nobody ever had fewer secrets, nobody ever
lived and wrought in fuller sunlight.

CHAPTER I

CHILDHOOD

{1809-1821)

I now not why commerce in England should not have its old
families, rejoicing to be connected with commerce from generation
to generation. It has been so in other countries ; I trust it will be
so in this country. — Gladstone.

The dawn of the life of the great and famous man who is our chap.

subject in these memoirs has been depicted with homely ^ ^

simplicity by his own hand. With this fragment of a record ^j^ ^^jg
it is perhaps best for me to begin our journey. *I was
born,' he says, * on December 29, 1809,' at 62 Rodney Street,
Liverpool. * I was baptized, I believe, in the parish church
of St. Peter. My godmother was my elder sister Anne,
then just seven years old, who died a perfect saint in the
beginning of the year 1829. In her later years she lived in
close relations with me, and I must have been much worse
but for her. Of my godfathers, one was a Scotch episco-
palian, Mr. Fraser of , whom I hardly ever saw or heard

of ; the other a presbyterian, Mr. G. Grant, a junior partner
of my father's.' The child was named William Ewart, after
his father's friend, an immigrant Scot and a merchant like
himself, and father of a younger William Ewart, who be-
came member for Liverpool, and did good public service
in parliament.

Before proceeding to the period of my childhood, properly
BO<ialled, I will here insert a few words about my family. My
maternal grandfather was known as Provost Robertson of Ding-
wall, a man held, I believe, in the highest respect. His wife was
a Mackenzie of [Coul]. His circumstances must have been good.

7

H CHILDHOOD

W}f}K Of hui three sons, one went into the army, and I recollect him as
^' J Ca^ftain Robertson (1 have a seal which he gave me, a three-sided
\W^f^i\, '^ii^^'^i^n- ^^-^ ^^ ''i guineas). The other two took mercantile
jKisitions. When m j parents made a Scotch tour in 1820-21 with,
I think, their four sons, the freedom of Dingwall was presented to
us a]],' with ray father; and there was large visiting at the houses
of the Koss-shire gentry. I think the line of my grandmother
was stoutly episcopalian and Jacobite: but, coming outside the
western highlands, the first at least was soon rubbed down. The
X>rovost, I think, came from a younger branch of the Robertsons
of Struan.

On my father's side the matter is more complex. The history
of the family has been traced at the desire of my eldest brother
and my own, by Sir William Fraser, the highest living authority.*
He has carried us up to a rather remote period, I think before
Elizabeth, but has not yet been able to connect us with the earliest
known holders of the name, which with the aid of charter-chests
he hopes to do. Some things are plain and not without interest.
They were a race of borderers. There is still an old Gledstanes
or Gladstone castle. They formed a family in Sweden in the
seventeenth century. The explanation of this may have been that,
when the union of the crowns led to the extinction of border
fighting they took service like Sir Dugald Dalgetty under
Gustavus Adolphus, and in this case passed from service to
settlement. I have never heard of them in Scotland until after
the Restoration, otherwise than as persons of family. At that
period there are traces of their having been fined by public
authority, but not for any ordinary criminal offence. From this
time forward I find no trace of their gentility. During the
eighteenth century they are, I think, principally traced by a line
of maltsters (no doubt a small business then) in Lanarkshire.
Their names are recorded on tombstones in the churchyard of
higgar. I remember going as a child or boy to see the representa-
tive of that branch, either in 1820 or some years earlier, who was
a small watchmaker in that town. He was of the same generation
as my father, but came, I understood, from a senior brother of the

1 The freedom was formally be- < Sir William Fraser died in 1898.
stowed on him in 1853.

ANCESTBY 9

family. I do not know whether his line is extinct. There also CHAP,
seem to be some stray Gladstones who are found at Yarmouth ^•
and in Yorkshire.^ j^Xl2.

My father's father seems from his letters to have been an
excellent man and a wise parent : his wife a woman of energy.
There are pictures of them at Fasque, by Eaebum. He was a
merchant, in Scotch phrase ; that is to say, a shopkeeper dealing
Id com and stores, and my father as a lad served in his shop.
Bat he also sent a ship or ships to the Baltic ; and I believe that
my father, whose energy soon began to outtop that of all the very
large family, went in one of these ships at a very early age as a
supercargo, an appointment then, I think, common. But he soon
quitted a nest too small to hold him. He was bom in December
1764: and I have (at Hawarden) a reprint of the Liverpool Direc-
tory for 17S-, in which his name appears as a partner in the firm
of Messrs. Corrie, com merchants.

Here his force soon began to be felt as a prominent and then a
foremost member of the community. A liberal in the early period
of the century, he drew to Mr. Canning, and brought that states-
man as candidate to Liverpool in 1812, by personally offering to
guarantee his expenses at a time when, though prosperous, he
could hardly have been a rich man. His services to the town were

1 Researches into the ancestry of of the Douglas family. The Gled-

ihe Gladstone family have been made stanes still continued to figure for

by Sir William Fraser, Professor John many generations on the border.

Veitch, and Mrs. Oliver of Thorn- About the middle of the eighteenth

w.vtd. Besides his special investiga- century two branches of the family

tion of the genealogy of the family, — the Gledstanes of Cocklaw and of

^i^ W. Fraser devoted some pages in Craigs — failed in the direct male line,

the Douglas Book to the Gledstanes Mr. Gladstone was descended from

of flledstanes. The surname of Gled- a third branch, the Gledstanes of

stan-s occurs at a very early period Arthurshiel in Lanarkshire. The

m the records of Scotland. Families first of this line who has been traced

of ihat name acquired considerable is William Gledstanes, who in the

lande^l estates in the counties of Lan- year 1651 was laird of Arthurshiel.

ark, Peebles, Roxburgh, and Dum- His lineal descendants continued as

fri-s. The old castle of Gledstanes, owners of that property till William

:i .w in ruins, was the principal man- Gledstanes disposed of it and went

>ii'n of the family. The first of the to live in the town of Biggar about

name who has been found on record the year 1679. This William Gled-

i« Herbert de Gledstanes, who swore stanes was Mr. Gladstone's great-

fe:ilty to Edward i. in 1296 for lands great-grandfather. The connection

ia the county of Lanark. The Gled- between these three branches and

stanes long held the office of bailie Herbert de Gledstanes of 1296 has

under the Earls of Douglas, and the not been ascertained, but he was

cr.nnection between the two families probably the common ancestor of

seema to have lasted until the fall them all.

10 CHILDHOOD

testified by gifts of plate, now in the possession of the elder lines
of his descendants, and by a remarkable subscription of six
1809-21 ^^o^^^^^l pounds raised to enable him to contest the borough of
Lancaster, for which he sat in the parliament of 1818.

At his demise, in December 1851, the value of his estate was, I
think, near £600,000. My father was a successful merchant, but
considering his long life and means of accumulation, the result
represents a success secondary in comparison with that of others
whom in native talent and energy he much surpassed. It was a
large and strong nature, simple though hasty, profoundly afteo-
tionate and capable of the highest devotion in the lines of duty
and of love. I think that his intellect was a little intemperate,
though not his character. In his old age, spent mainly in retire-
ment, he was our constant [centre of] social and domestic life.
My mother, a beautiful and admirable woman, failed in health
and left him a widower in 1835, when she was 62.

He then turns to the records of his own childhood, a
period that he regarded as closing in September 1821, when
he was sent to Eton. He begins with one or two juvenile
performances, in no way differing from those of any other
infant, — navita projectus humif the mariner flung by force
of the waves naked and helpless ashore. He believes that
he was strong and healthy, and came well through his
childish ailments.

My next recollection belongs to the period of Mr. Canning's
first election for Liverpool, in the month of October of the year
1812. Much entertaining went on in my father's house, where
Mr. Canning himself was a guest ; and on a day of a great dinner
I was taken down to the dining room. I was set upon one of the
chairs, standing, and directed to say to the company ' Ladies and
gentlemen.'

I have, thirdly, a group of recollections which refer to Scotland.
Thither my father and mother took me on a journey which they
made, I think, in a post^shaise to Edinburgh and Glasgow as its
principal points. At Edinburgh our sojourn was in the Boyal
Hotel, Princes Street I well remember the rattling of the
windows when the castle guns were fired on some great occasion.

EARLY BBCOLLBCTIONS 11

piobably the abdication of Napoleon, for the date of the journey CHAP,
was, I think, the spring of 1814. ^'

In this journey the situation of Sanquhar, in a close Dumfries- j^ ^-12
shire valley, impressed itself on my recollection. I never saw
Sanquhar again until in the autumn of 1863 (as I believe). As
I was whirled along the Glasgow and South- Western railway I
witnessed just beneath me lines of building in just such a valley,
and said that must be Sanquhar, which it was. My local memory
has always been good and very impressible by scenery. I seem to
myself never to have forgotten a scene.

I have one other early recollection to record. It must, I think,

have been in the year 1815 that my father and mother took me

with them on either one or two more journeys. The objective

points were Cambridge and London respectively. My father

had built, under the very niggard and discouraging laws which

repressed rather than encouraged the erection of new churches at

that period, the church of St. Thomas at Seaforth, and he wanted

a clergyman for it.* Guided in these matters very much by the

deeply religious temper of my mother, he went with her to

Cambridge to obtain a recommendation of a suitable person

from Mr. Simeon, whom I saw at the time.' I remember his

appearance distinctly. He was a venerable man, and although

only a fellow of a college, was more ecclesiastically got up than

many a dean, or even here and there, perhaps, a bishop of the

present less costumed if more ritualistic period. Mr. Simeon,

I believe, recommended Mr. Jones, an excellent specimen of the

excellent evangelical school of those days. We went to Leicester

to hear him preach in a large church, and his text was ' Orow in

grace,'' He became eventually archdeacon of Liverpool, and

died in great honour a few years ago at much past 90. On

the strength of this visit to Cambridge I lately boasted there,

even during the lifetime of the aged Provost Okes, that I had

been in the university before any one of them.

I think it was at this time that in London we were domiciled in

1 JohD Gladstone built St. Thomas's ^ Charles Simeon (1769-1836"), who

Church, Seaforth, 1814-16 ; St. An- played as conspicuous a part in low

drew^s, Liverpool, about 1816 ; the church thought as Newman after-

clmrch at Leith ; the Episcopal chapel wards in high,
at Fasque built and endowed about
IsiT.

12 CHILDHOOD

Russell Squaore, in the house of a brother of my mother, Mr. Colin
Robertson ; and I was vexed and put about by being forbidden to
1809-21. nm freely at my own will into and about the streets, as I had done
in Liverpool. But the main event was this : we went to a great
service of public thanksgiving at Saint Paul's, and sat in a small
gallery annexed to the choir, just over the place where was the
Regent, and looking down upon him from behind. I recollect
nothing more of the service, nor was I ever present at any public
thanksgiving after this in Saint PauPs, until the service held in
that cathedral, under my advice as the prime minister, after the
highly dangerous illness of the Prince of Wales.

Before quitting the subject of early recollections I must name
one which involves another person of some note. My mother took
me in 181- to Barley Wood Cottage, near Bristol. Here lived
Miss Hannah More, with some of her coeval sisters. I am sure
they loved my mother, who was love-worthy indeed. And I
cannot help here deviating for a moment into the later portion
of the story to record that in 1833 I had the honour of break-
fasting with Mr. Wilberforce a few days before his death,^ and
when I entered the house, immediately after the salutation, he
said to me in his silvery tones, ' How is your sweet mother ? '
He had been a guest in my father's house some twelve years
before. During the afternoon visit at Barley Wood, Miss
Hannah More took me aside and presented to me a little
book. It was a copy of her Sacred Dramas, and it now remains
in my possession, with my name written in it by her. She
very graciously accompanied it with a little speech, of which
I cannot recollect the conclusion (or apodosis), but it began,
* As you have just come into the world, and I am just going out
of it, I therefore,' etc.

I wish that in reviewing my childhood I could regard it as
presenting those features of innocence and beauty which I have
often seen elsewhere, and indeed, thanks be to God, within the
limits of my own home. The best I can say for it is that I do not
think it was a vicious childhood. I do not think, trying to look
at the past impartially , that I had a strong natural propensity then
developed to what are termed the mortal sins. But truth obliges

1 See below, pp. 106-7.

EARLY BECOLLECTIONS 13

me to record this against myself. I have no recollection of
being a loving or a winning child ; or an earnest or diligent or
knowledge-loving child. God forgive me. And what pains and ^t. 1-12.
shames me most of all is to remember that at most and at best I
was, like the sailor in Juvenal,

digitis a morte remotos,
Qoatuor aut septem ; ^

the plank between me and all the sins was so very thin. I do
not indeed intend in these notes to give a history of the inner
life, which I think has been with me extraordinarily dubious,
vacillating, and above all complex. I reserve them, perhaps, for
a more private and personal document ; and I may in this way
relieve myself from some at least of the risks of falling into an
odious Pharisaism. I cannot in truth have been an interesting
child, and the only presumption the other way which I can gather
from my review is that there was probably something in me
worth the seeing, or my father and mother would not so much
have singled me out to be taken with them on their journeys.

I was not a devotional child. I have no recollection of early
love for the House of God and for divine service : though after
my father built the church at Seaforth in 1815, 1 remember cher-
ishing a hope that he would bequeath it to me, and that I might
live in it. I have a very early recollection of hearing preacliing
in St. George's, Liverpool, but it is this : that I turned quickly to
my mother and said, ' When will he have done ? ' The Pilgrim^ s
Progress undoubtedly took a great and fascinating hold upon me,
so that anything which I wrote was insensibly moulded in its
style ; but it was by the force of the allegory addressing itself to
the fancy, and was very like a strong impression received from
the Arahian Nights, and from another work called Tales of the
Genii. I think it was about the same time that Miss Porter's
S*yMish Chief Sy and especially the life and death of Wallace, used
to make me weep profusely. This would be when I was about
ten ye?rs old. At a much earlier period, say six or seven, I re-
member praying earnestly, but it was for no higher object than
to be spared from the loss of a tooth. Here, however, it may be

^ xn 58 — ♦ Removed from death by four or maybe seven fingers' breadth.'

14 CHILDHOOD

BOOK mentioned in mitigation that the local dentist of those days, in

V ' J our ease a certain Dr. P. of Street, Liverpool, was a kind of

1809-21. savage at his work (possibly a very good-natured man too), with
no ideas except to smash and crash. My religious recollections,
then, are a sad blank. Neither was I a popular boy, though not
egregiously otherwise. If I was not a bad boy, I think that I
was a boy with a great absence of goodness. I was a child of
slow, in some points I think of singularly slow, development.
There was more in me perhaps than in the average boy, but it
required greatly more time to set itself in order : and just so in
adult, and in middle and later life, I acquired very tardily any
knowledge of the world, and that simultaneous conspectus of the
relations of persons and things which is necessary for the proper
performance of duties in the world.

I may mention another matter in extenuation. I received,
unless my memory deceives me, very little benefit from teaching.
My father was too much occupied, my mother's health was
broken. We, the four brothers, had no quarrelling among our-
selves : but neither can I recollect any influence flowing down at
this time upon me, the junior. One odd incident seems to show
that I was meek, which I should not have supposed, not less than
thrifty and penurious, a leaning which lay deep, I think, in my
nature, and which has required effort and battle to control it. It
was this. By some process not easy to explain I had, when I was
probably seven or eight, and my elder brothers from ten or eleven
to fourteen or thereabouts, accumulated no less than twenty shil-
lings in silver. My brothers judged it right to appropriate this fund,
and I do not recollect either annoyance or resistance or complaint.
But I recollect that they employed the principal part of it in the
purchase of four knives, and that they broke the points from the
tops of the blades of my knife, lest I should cut my fingers.

Where was the official or appointed teacher all this time ? He
was the Rev. Mr. Eawson of Cambridge, who had, I suppose, been
passed by Mr. Simeon and become private tutor in my father's
house. But as he was to be incumbent of the church, the bishop
required a parsonage and that he should live in it. Out of
this grew a very small school of about twelve boys, to which I
went, with some senior brother or brothers remaining for a while*

EABLY BSCOLLBOTIONS 15

Mr. Bawson was a good man^ of high no-poperj opinions. His CHAP.

school afterwards rose into considerable repute, and it had Dean ^

Stanley and the soils of one or more other Cheshire families for j^ j^jg

pupils. But I think this was not so much due to its intellectual

stamina as to the extreme salubrity of the situation on the pure

dry sands of the Mersey's mouth, with all the advantages of the

strong tidal action and the fresh and frequent north-west winds.

At five miles from Liverpool Exchange, the sands, delicious for

riding, were one absolute solitude, and only one house looked down

on them between us and the town. To return to Mr. Eawson.

Everything was unobjectionable. I suppose I learnt something

there. But I have no recollection of being imder any moral or

personal influence whatever, and I doubt whether the preaching

had any adaptation whatever to children. As to intellectual

training, I believe that, like the other boys, I shirked my work as

much as I could. I went to Eton in 1821 after a pretty long spell,

in a very middling state of preparation, and wholly without any

knowledge or other enthusiasm, unless it were a priggish love of

argument which I had begun to develop. I had lived upon a

rabbit warren: and what a rabbit warren of a life it is that I

have been surveying.

My brother John, three years older than myself, and of a moral
character more manly and on a higher level, had chosen the navy,
and went off to the preparatory college at Portsmouth. But he
evidently underwent persecution for righteousness' sake at the
college, which was then (say about 1820) in a bad condition. Of
this, though he was never querulous, his letters bore the traces,
and I cannot but think they must have exercised upon me some
kind of influence for good. As to miscellaneous notices, I had
a great affinity with the trades of joiners and of bricklayers.
Physically I must have been rather tough, for my brother John
tcok me down at about ten years old to wrestle in the stables
with an older lad of that region, whom I threw. Among our
greatest enjoyments were undoubtedly the annual Guy Fawkes
Vtcnfires, for which we had always liberal allowances of wreck
hmber and a tar-barrel. I remember seeing, when about eight or
nine, my first case of a dead body. It was the child of the head
gardener Derbyshire, and was laid in the cottage bed by tender

16 CHILDHOOD

BOOK hands, with nice and clean accompaniments. It seemed to me
^ ' J pleasing, and in no way repelled me ; but it made no deep im-
1809^21. pression. And now I remember that I used to teach pretty
regularly on Sundays in the Sunday-school built by my father
near the Primrose bridge. It was, I think, a duty done not
under constraint, but I can recollect nothing which associates it
with a seriously religious life in myself.^

n

To these fragments no long supplement is needed.
Little of interest can be certainly established about his far-
oflf ancestral origins, and the ordinary twilight of genealogy
overhangs the case of the Glaidstanes, Gledstanes, Glad-
stanes, Gladstones, whose name is to be found on tombstones
and parish rolls, in charter-chests and royal certificates, on
the southern border of Scotland. The explorations of the
genealogist tell of recognitions of their nobility by Scottish
kings in dim ages, but the links are sometimes broken, title-
deeds are lost, the same name is attached to estates in
different counties, Roxburgh, Peebles, Lanark, and in short
until the close of the seventeenth century we linger, in the
old poet's phrase, among dreams of shadows. As we have
just been told, during the eighteenth century no traces of
their gentility survives, and apparently they glided down
from moderate lairds to small maltsters. Thomas Glad-
stones, grandfather of hira with whom we are concerned,
made his way from Biggar to Leith, and there set up in a
modest way as corndealer, wholesale and retail. His wife was
a Neilson of Springfield. To them sixteen children were
born, and John Gladstones (b. Dec. 11, 1764) was their eldest
son. Having established himself in Liverpool, he married
in 1792 Jane Hall, a lady of that city, who died without
children six years later. In 1800 he took for his second
wife Anne Robertson of Dingwall. Her father was of the clan
Donnachaidh, and her mother was of kin with Mackenzies,
Munros, and other highland stocks.^ Their son, therefore,

1 The fragment is undated. nugat are among the papers. A cor-

s One or two further genealogical respondent wrote to Mr. Gladstone

OSNEALOOY

IT

was of unmixed Scottish origins, half highland, half lowland CHAP,
borderer.^ With the possible exception of Lord Mansfield — ^ ^' ^
the rival of Chatham in parliament, one of the loftiest names ^, ^.i^
among great judges, and chief builder of the commercial
law of the English world, a man who might have been
prime minister if he had chosen — Mr. Gladstone stands out as
far the most conspicuous and powerful of all the public leaders
in our history, who have sprung from the northern half of
our island. When he had grown to be the most famous
man in the realm of the Queen, he said, 'I am not slow to

in 1887: Among the donors to the
Craftsman^s Hospital, Aberdeen, es-
tablished in 16;^, occurs the name
of ' Georg Gladstaines, pewterer, 300
marks* (£16, ISs. 4d. sterling), 16d8.
Geor<]:e joined the Hammerman Craft
in 1656, when he would have been
about 25 years of age. His signature
is still in existence appended to the
burgess oath. Very few craftsmen
could sign their names at that period
— not one in twenty — so that George
must hare been fairly well educated.
Mr. Gladstone replied that it was the
first time that he had heard of the
name so far northv and that the pew-
terer was probably one planted out.
At rhindee (1890) he mentioned that
others of his name and blood appeared
on the burgess-roll as early as the
tifteenth century. As for his mater-
nal crandfather, the Inverness Courier
I March 2, year not given) has the
f'tilowins : — ' Provost Robertson of
Dinijwall was a descendant of the
ancient family of the Robertsons of
Inahes, of whose early settlement in
the north the following particulars
are known : The first was a member
of the family of Struan, Perthshire,
ari'i was a merchant in Inverness in
Uji). In the battle of Blair-na-leine,
f iulit at the west end of Loch-Lochy
in 1644, John Robertson, a descend-
ant of the above, acted as standard-
k-^^arer to Lord Lovat. This battle
was fought between the Frasers and
Macdonalds of Clanranald, and de-
rived its appellation from the circum-
?iance of the combatants fighting
only in their shirts. The contest was
carried on with such bloody deter-
mination, foot to foot and claymore
t" claymorp, that only four of the
Frasers and ten of the Macdonalds

VOL. I — c

returned to tell the tale. The former
family was well nigh extirpated ; tra-
dition, however, states that sixteen
widows of the Frasers who had been
slain, shortly afterwards, as a provi-
dential succoiur, gave birth to sixteen
sons I From the bloody onslaught
at Loch-Lochy yoimg Robertson re-
turned home scaithless, and his brave
and gallant conduct was the theme
of praise with all. Some time there-
after he married the second daughter
of Paterson of Wester and Easter
Inshes, the eldest being married to
Cuthbert of Macbeth's Castlehill, now
known as the Crown lands, possessed
by Mr. Fraser of AbertarfE. On the
death of Paterson, his father-in-law.
Wester Inshes became the property
of young Robertson, and Easter
Inshes that of the Cuthberts, who,
for the sake of distinction, changed
the name to Castlehill. The Robert-
sons, in regular succession until the
present time, possess the fine estate
of Inshes ; while that of Castlehill,
which belonged to the powerful
Cuthberts for so many generations,
knows them no more. The family
of Inshes, in all ages, stood high
in respect throughout the highlands,
and many of them had signalised
themselves in upholding the rights
of their country ; and the worthy
Provost Robertson of Dingwall had
no less distinguished himself, who,
with other important reforms, had
cleared away the last burdensome
relic of feudal times in that ancient
burgh.'

1 The other sons and daughters of
this marriage were Thomas, d. 1889 ;
Robertson, d, 1875 ; John Neilson, d.
1863 ; Anne, d. 1829 ; Helen Jane, d.
1880.

18 CHILDHOOD

claim the name of Scotsman, and even if I were, there is
the fact staring me in the face that not a drop of blood runs
1809-2L ^ ^y veins except what is derived from a Scottish ancestry.'^
An illustrious opponent once described him, by way of hitting
his singular duality of disposition, as an ardent Italian in the
custody of a Scotsman. It is easy to make too much of race^
but when we are puzzled by Mr. Gladstone's seeming con-
trarieties of temperament, his union of impulse with caution,
of passion with circumspection, of pride and fire with self-
control, of Ossianic flight with a steady foothold on the solid
earth, we may perhaps find a sort of explanation in thinking
of him as a highlander in the custody of a lowlander.

Of John Gladstone something more remains to be said.
About 1783 he was made a partner by his father in the
business at Leith, and here he saved five hundred pounds.
Four years later, probably after a short period of service, he
was admitted to a partnership with two corn-merchants at
Liverpool, his contribution to the total capital of four
thousand pounds being fifteen hundred, of which his father
lent him five hundred, and a friend another five at five
per cent. In 1787 he thought the plural ending of his name
sounded awkwardly in the style of the firm, Corrie, Glad-
stones, and Bradshaw, so he dropped the 8.^ He visited
London to enlarge his knowledge of the corn trade in Mark
Lane, and here became acquainted with Sir Claude Scott, the
banker (not yet, however, a baronet) . Scott was so impressed
by his extraordinary vigour and shrewdness as to talk of a
partnership, but Gladstone's existing arrangement in Liv-
erpool was settled for fourteen years. Sometime in the
nineties he was sent to America to purchase corn, with un-
limited confidence from Sir Claude Scott. On his arrival,
he found a severe scarcity and enormous prices. A large
number of vessels had been chartered for the enterprise, and
were on their way to him for cargoes. To send them back
in ballast would be a disaster. Thrown entirely on his own

1 At Dundee, Oct 29, 1S90. seenui to have taken out letters pat-

' In 1886 formal difficulties arose ent anthoriBing the change in the

in connection with the purchase of name.

a government annuity, and then he

JOHN GLADSTONE 19

resources, he travelled south from New York, making the best chap.
purchases of all sorts that he could ; then loaded his ships ^ ^ ,
with timber and other commodities, one only of them with jg^ j^jg^
flour ; and the loss on the venture, which might have meant
ruin, did not exceed a few hundred pounds. Energy and re-
source of this kind made fortune secure, and when the fourteen
years of partnership expired, Gladstone continued business on
his own account, with a prosperity that was never broken.
He brought his brothers to Liverpool, but it was to provide
for them, not to assist himself, says Mr. Gladstone ; ^ and he
provided for many young men in the same way. I never
knew him reject any kind of work in aid of others that
offered itself to him.'

It was John Gladstone's habit, we are told, to discuss all
sorts of questions with his children, and nothing was ever
taken for granted between him and his sons. ^He could
not understand,' says the illustrious one among them, ^ nor
tolerate those who, perceiving an object to be good, did not
it once and actively pursue it ; and with all this energy he
joined a corresponding warmth and, so to speak, eagerness
of affection, a keen appreciation of humour, in which he
found a rest, and an indescribable frankness and simplicity
of character, which, crowning his other qualities, made him,
I think (and I strive to think impartially), the most interest-
ing old man I have ever known/ ^

To his father's person and memory, Mr. Gladstone's fervid
and affectionate devotion remained unbroken. ' One morn-
ing,' writes a female relative of his, ' when I was breakfasting
alone with Mr. Gladstone at Carlton House Terrace some-
thing led to his speaking of his father. I seem to see him
now, rising from his chair, standing in front of the chimney-
piece, and in strains of fervid eloquence dwelling on the
srrandeur, the breadth and depth of his character, his gener-
osity, his nobleness, last and greatest of all — his loving nature.
His eyes filled with tears as he exclaimed : " None but his
children can know what torrents of tenderness flowed from
his heart."'

The successful merchant was also the active-minded

1 Memoirs of J. R. Hope-ScoU, ii. p. 290.

20 CHILDHOOD

citizen. * His force,' says his son, ^ soon began to be felt as a
prominent and then a foremost member of the community.'
1809>21. ^^ ^^^ something of his descendant's inextinguishable
passion for pamphleteering, and the copious effusion of public
letters and articles. As was inevitable in a Scotsman of his
social position at that day, when tory rule of a more tyrannic
stamp than was ever known in England since the Revolution
of 1688, had reduced constitutional liberty in Scotland to
a shadow, John Gladstone came to Liverpool a whig, and
a whig he remained until Canning raised the flag of a new
party inside the entrenchments of Eldonian toryism.

In 1812 Canning, who had just refused Lord Liverpool's
proffer of the foreign office because he would not serve under
Castlereagh as leader in the House of Commons, was invited
by John Gladstone to stand for Liverpool. He was elected
in triumph over Brougham, and held the seat through four
elections, down to 1822, when he was succeeded by Huskisson,
whom he described to the constituency as the best man of
business in England, and one of the ablest practical statesmen
that could engage in the concerns of a commercial country.
The speeches made to his constituents during the ten
years for which he served them are excellent specimens of
Canning's rich, gay, aspiring eloquence. In substance they
abound in much pure toryism, and his speech after the
Peterloo massacre, and upon the topics relating to public
meetings, sedition, and parliamentary reform, though by
sonorous splendour and a superb plausibility fascinating to
the political neophyte, is by no means free from froth, without
much relation either to social facts or to popular principles.
On catholic emancipation he followed Pitt, as he did in an
enlarged view of commercial policy. At Liverpool he made
his famous declaration that his political allegiance was buried
in Pitt's grave. At one at least of these performances the
youthful William Gladstone was present, but it was at home
that he learned Canningite doctrine. At Seaforth House
Canning spent the days between the death of Castlereagh
and his own recall to power, while he was waiting for the
date fixed for his voyage to take up the viceroyalty of India,
As from whig John Gladstone turned Canningite, so from

CANNINO 21

presbyterian also he turned churchman. He paid the CHAP,
penalty of men who change their party, and was watched ^ ^ ^
with a critical eye by old friends ; but he was a liberal j^^ j_j2.
giver for beneficent public purposes, and in 1811 he was
honoured by the freedom of Liverpool. His ambition
naturally pointed to parliament, and he was elected first
for Lancaster in 1818, and next for Woodstock in 1820, two
boroughs of extremely easy political virtue. Lancaster cost
him twelve thousand pounds, towards which his friends in
Liverpool contributed one-half. In 1826 he was chosen at
Ben^-ick, but was unseated the year after. His few per-
formances in the House were not remarkable. He voted
with ministers, and on the open question of catholic
emancipation he went with Canning and Plunket. He was
one of the majority who by six carried Plunket's catholic
motion in 1821, and the matter figures in the earliest of the
hundreds of surviving letters from his youngest son, then
over eleven, and on the eve of his departure for Eton : —

Seaforth, Mar. 10, 1821.
I address these few lines to you to know how my dear mother
is, to thank you for your kind letter, and to know whether Edward
mav get two padlocks for the wicket and large shore gate. They
are now open, and the people make a thoroughfare of the green
walk and the carriage road. I read Mr. Plunket's speech, and I
admire it exceedingly. I enclose a letter from Mr. Rawson to you.
He told me to-day that Mrs. R. was a great deal better. Write
to me again as soon as you can. — Ever your most affectionate and
dutiful son, W. E. Gladstone.

In after years he was fond of recalling how the Liverpool
with which he had been most familiar (1810-20), though the
second commercial town in the kingdom, did not exceed
100,000 of population, and how the silver cloud of smoke that
floated above her resembled that which might now appear
over any secondary borough or village of the country. ' I
have seen wild roses growing upon the very ground that is
now the centre of the borough of Bootle. All that land is
now partly covered with residences and partly with places of
business and industry ; but in my time but one single house

22 CHILDHOOD

stood upon the space between Primrose brook and the town
of Liverpool.' Among his eariy recollections was *the
1809-21. extraordinarily beautiful spectacle of a dock delivery on the
Mersey after a long prevalence of westerly winds followed by
a change. Liverpool cannot imitate that now [1892], at least
not for the eye.'

in

The Gladstone firm was mainly an East India house, but in
the last ten years of his mercantile course John Gladstone be-
came the owner of extensive plantations of sugar and coffee in
the West Indies, some in Jamaica, others in British Guiana or
Demerara. The infamy of the slave-trade had been abolished
in 1807, but slave labour remained, and the Liverpool
merchant, like a host of other men of equal respectability and
higher dignity, including many peers and even some bishops,
was a slaveholder. Everybody who has ever read one of the
most honourable and glorious chapters in our English history
knows the case of the missionary John Smith.^ In 1823 an
outbreak of the slaves occurred in Demerara, and one of
John Gladstone's plantations happened to be its centre. The
rising was stamped out with great cruelty in three days.
Martial law, the savage instrument of race passion, was kept
in force for over five months. Fifty negroes were hanged, many
were shot down in the thickets, others were torn in pieces by
the lash of the cart-whip. Smith was arrested, although he
had in fact done his best to stop the rising. Tried before a
court in which every rule of evidence was tyrannically set
aside, he was convicted on hearsay and condemned to death.
Before the atrocious sentence could be commuted by the
home authorities, the fiery heat and noisome vapours of his
prison killed him. The death of the Demerara missionary,
it has been truly said, was an event as fatal to slavery in the
West Indies, as the execution of John Brown was its death-
blow in the United States.^ Brougham in 1824 brought the

1 The story of John Smith is excel- « Trevelyan's Macaulay, i. p. Ill,

lenUy told in Walpole (iii. p. 178), where the reader will also find a fine

and in Mias Martineau^s Hist, of the passage from Macaulay^s speech

Peace (bk. ii. ch. iv.). But Mr. Rob- before the Anti-Slavery Society upon

bins has worked it out with diligence the matter — the first speech he ever

and precision in special reference to made.
John Gladstone: Early L\fe^ pp.
86-47.

JOHN 6LADSTOKB AS SLAYEHOLDEB 23

case before the House of Commons, and in the various CHAP,
discussions upon it the Gladstone estates made rather a ^ ^ ^
prominent figure. John Gladstone became involved in a ^^ 1.12.
heated and prolonged controversy as to the management of
his plantations ; as we shall see, it did not finally die down
till 1841. He was an indomitable man. In a newspaper
discussion through a long series of letters, he did not defend
slavery in the abstract, but protested against the abuse
levelled at the planters by all * the intemperate, credulous,
designing, or interested individuals who followed the lead of
that well-meaning but mistaken man, Mr. Wilberforce.' He
denounced the missionaries as hired emissaries, whose object
seemed to be rather to revolutionise the colonies than to
diflfuse religion among the people.

In 1830 he published a pamphlet, in the form of a letter
to Sir Robert Peel,^ to explain that negroes were happier
when forced to work ; that, as their labour was essential to
the welfare of the colonies, he considei-ed the difficulties in
the way of emancipation insurmountable ; that it was not
for him to seek to destroy a system that an over-ruling
Providence had seen fit to permit in certain climates since
the very formation of society ; and finally with a Parthian
bolt, he hinted that the public would do better to look to
the condition of the lower classes at home than to the
negroes in the colonies. The pamphlet made its mark,
and was admitted by the abolitionists to be an attempt of
unusual ingenuity to varnish the most heinous of national
crimes. Three years later, when emancipation came, and
the twenty million pounds of compensation were distributed,
John Gladstone appears to have received, individually
and apart from his partnerships, a little over seventy-five
thousand pounds for 1609 slaves.^

It is as well, though in anticipation of the order of time,
to complete our sketch. In view of the approach of full

1 * A statement of facts connected ^ In Demerara the average price of

with the present state of slavery in slaves from 1822 to 1830 had been

ihe British sugar and coffee colonies, £114, lis. 5^. The rate of com-

md in the United States of America, pensation per slave averaged £51,

together with a view of the present ITs. lid., but it is of interest to note

ditoation of the lower classes in the that the slaves on the Vreedenhoop

United Kingdom.' estate were valued at £63, 15s. 6d.

24 CHILDHOOD

abolition, John Gladstone induced Lord Glenelg, the whig
secretary of state, to issue an order In council (1837) per-
1809-21. i^itting the West Indian planters to ship coolies from India
on terms drawn up by the planters themselves. Objections
were made with no effect by the governor at Demerara, a
humane and vigorous man, wlio had done much work as
military engineer under Wellington, and who, after abolish-
ing the flogging of female slaves in the Bahamas, now set
such an iron yoke upon the planters and their agents in
Demerara, that he said *he could sleep satisfied that no
person in the colony could be punished without his know-
ledge and sanction.' ^ The importation of coolies raised old
questions in new forms. The voyage from India was declared
to reproduce the horrors of the middle passage of the vanished
Guinea slavers ; the condition of the coolie on the sugar planta-
tions was drawn in a light only less lurid than the case of the
African negro ; and John Gladstone was again in hot water.
Thomas Gladstone, his eldest son, defended him in parliament
(Aug. 8, 1839), and commissioners sent to inquire into the
condition of the various Gladstone plantations reported that
the coolies on Vreedestein appeared contented and happy on
the whole; no one had ever maltreated or beaten them except
in one case ; and those on Vreedenhoop appeared perfectly
contented. The interpreter, who had abused them, had been
fined, punished, and dismissed. Upon the motion of W. E.
Gladstone, these reports were laid upon the table of the
House in 1840.^

We shall have not unimportant glimpses, as our story
unfolds itself, of all these transactions. Meanwhile, it is
interesting to note that the statesman whose great ensign
was to be human freedom, was thus born in a family where
the palliation of slavery must have made a daily topic.
The union, moreover, of fervid evangelical religion with
antagonism to abolition must in those days have been rare,
and in spite of his devoted faith in his father the youthful

1 Diet. Nat. Biog,^ Sir James Car- publisher of an article stating how

michael Sm3rth. many slaves had been worked to death

* He took Follett's opinion (Aug. on his father's plantations. The great

6, 1841) on the question of applying advocate wisely recommended him to

for a criminal information against the leave it alone.

JOHN GLADSTONE AS SLAVEHOLDER 25

Gladstone may well have had uneasy moments. If so, he CHAP,
perhaps consoled himself with the authority of Canning. ^ ^' ^
Canning, in 1823, had formally laid down the neutral prin- ^^ j^jg.
ciples common to the statesmen of the day : that ameliora-
tion of the lot of the negro slave was the utmost limit of
action., and that his freedom as a result of amelioration was
the object of a pious hope, and no more. Canning described
the negro as a being with the form of a man and the intellect
of a child. * To turn him loose in the manhood of his physical
strength, in the maturity of his physical passions, but in the
infancy of his uninstructed reason, would be to raise up a
creature resembling the splendid fiction of a recent romance,^
the hero of which constructs a human form with all the
corporal capabilities of a man, but being unable to impart to
the work of his hands a perception of right and wrong, he
finds too late that he has only created a more than mortal
power of doing mischief.' *I was bred,' said Mr. Gladstone
when risen to meridian splendour, * under the shadow of
the great name of Canning ; every influence connected with
that name governed the politics of my childhood and of my
youth ; with Canning, I rejoiced in the removal of religious
disabilities, and in the character which he gave to our policy
abroad ; with Canning, I rejoiced in the opening he made
towards the establishment of free commercial interchanges
between nations; with Canning, and under the shadow of
the yet more venerable name of Burke, my youthful mind
and imagination were impressed.' ^ On slavery and even
the slave trade, Burke too had argued against total abolition.
• I confess,' he said, ' I trust infinitely more (according to the
sound principles of those who ever have at any time melio-
rated the state of mankind) to the effect and influence of
religion than to all the rest of the regulations put together.' ^

^ Frankenstein was published in ' Letter to Dundas^ with a sketch

1S18. of a Negro Code, 1792. But see Life

* flouae of Commons, April 27, of W. Wilberforce, v. p. 167.
1866.

CHAPTER n

ETON
{1821-1827)

It is in her public schools and universities that the yonth of Eng-
land are, by a discipline which shallow judgments haye sometimes
attempted to undervalue, prepared for the duties of public life.
There are rare and splendid exceptions, to be sure, but in my
conscience I believe, that England would not be what she is with-
out her system of public education, and that no other country
can become what England is, without the advantages of such a
system. — Canning.

It is difficult to discern the true dimensions of objects in that
mirage which covers the studies of one^s youth. — Gladstone.

In September 1821, the young Gladstone was sent to Eton.
Life at Eton lasted over six years, until the Christmas
1821-27. of 1827. It impressed images that never faded, and left
traces in heart and mind that the waves of time never
effaced, — so profound is the early writing on our opening
page. Canning's words at the head of our present chapter
set forth a superstition that had a powerful hold on the
English governing class of that day, and the new Etonian
never shook it off. His attachment to Eton grew with the
lapse of years; to him it was ever *the queen of all schools.'
*I went,' he says, * under the wing of my eldest brother,
then in the upper division, and this helped my start and
much mitigated the sense of isolation that attends the first
launch at a public school.' The door of his dame's house
looked down the Long Walk, while the windows looked into
the very crowded churchyard: from this he never received
the smallest inconvenience, though it was his custom (when
master of the room) to sleep with his window open both
summer and winter. The school, said the new scholar, has

MANNERS AT ETON 27

only about four hundred and ninety fellows in it, which CHAP,
was considered uncommonly small. He likes his tutor so ^ ^^' j
much that he would not exchange him for any ten. He j^^ 12-I8.
has various rows with Mrs. Shurey, his dame, and it is really
a great shame the way they are fed. He and his brother
have far the best room in the dame's house. His captain
is very good-natured. Fighting is a favourite diversion,
hardly a day passing without one, two, three, or even four
more or less mortal combats.

You will be glad to hear, he writes to his Highland aunt
Johanna (November 13, 1821), of an instance of the highest and
most honourable spirit in a highlander labouring under great dis-
advantages. His name is Macdonald (he once had a brother here
remarkably clever, and a capital fighter). He is tough as iron,
and about the strongest fellow in the school of his size. Being
pushed out of his seat in school by a fellow of the name of Arthur,
he airily asked him to give it him again, which being refused, with
the additional insult that he might try what he could do to take
it from him, Macdonald very properly took him at his word, and
began to push him out of his seat. Arthur struck at him with all
his might, and gave him so violent a blow that Macdonald was
almost knocked backwards, but disdaining to take a blow from
even a fellow much bigger than himself, he returned Arthur's
blow with interest; they began to fight ; after Macdonald had made
him bleed at both his nose and his mouth, he finished the affair
very triumphantly by knocking the arrogant Arthur backwards
over the form without receiving a single blow of any consequence.
He also labours under the additional disadvantage of being a new
fellow, and of not knowing any one here. Arthur in a former
battle put his finger out of joint, and as soon as it is recovered
they are to have a regular battle in the playing fields.

Other encounters are described with equal zest, especially
one where * the honour of Liverpool was bravely sustained,'
superior weight and size having such an advantage over
toughness and strength, that the foe of Liverpool was too
badly bruised and knocked about to appear in school. On
another occasion, 'to the great joy' of the narrator, an
oppidan vanquished a colleger, though the colleger fought

28 ETON

80 furiously that he put his fingers out of joint, and went
back to the classic studies that soften manners, with a face
1821-27. broken and quite black. The Windsor and Slough coaches
used to stop under the wall of the playing fields to watch
these desperate affrays, and once at least in these times
a boy was killed. With plenty of fighting went on plenty
of flogging ; for the headmaster was the redoubtable Dr.
Keate, with whom the appointed instrument of moral
regeneration in the childish soul was the birch rod; who
on heroic occasions was known to have flogged over eighty
boys on a single summer day ; and whose one mellow regret
in the evening of his life was that he had not flogged far
more. Religious instruction, as we may suppose, was under
these circumstances reduced to zero ; there was no trace of
the influence of the evangelical party, at that moment the
most active of all the religious sections ; and the ancient and
pious munificence of Henry vi. now inspired a scene that
was essentially little better than pagan, modified by an
ofl&cial church of England varnish. At Eton, Mr. Gladstone
wrote of this period forty years after, * the actual teaching
of Christianity was all but dead, though happily none of
its forms had been surrendered.'^

Science even in its rudiments fared as ill as its eternal
rival, theology. There was a mathematical master, but
nobody learned anything from him, or took any notice of
him. In his anxiety for position the unfortunate man asked
Keate if he might wear a cap and gown. * That's as you
please,' said Keate. * Must the boys touch their hats to me ? '

* That's as they please,! replied the genial doctor.^ Gladstone
first picked up a little mathematics, not at Eton, but during
the holidays, going to Liverpool for the purpose, first in 1824
and more seriously in 1827. He seems to have paid much
attention to French, and even then to have attained con-
siderable proficiency. * When I was at Eton,' Mr. Gladstone
said, * we knew very little indeed, but we knew it accurately.'

* There were many shades of distinction,' he observed,

* among the fellows who received what was supposed to be,
and was in many respects, their education. Some of those

1 Oleanings, vii. p. 138. * A story sometimes told of Provost GoodalL

KNOWLEDOB AT ETON 29

shades of distinction were extremely questionable, and the CHAP,
comparative measures of honour allotted to talent, industry, ^ ^^ ^
and idleness were undoubtedly such as philosophy, would j^^ jg-is
not justify. But no boy was ever estimated either more
or less because he had much money to spend. It added
nothing to him if he had much, it took nothing from him
if he had little.' A sharp fellow who worked, and a stupid
fellow who was idle, were both of them in good odour
enough, but a stupid boy who presumed to work was held
to be an insufferable solecism.^

My tutor was the Rev. H. H. Knapp (practically all tutors were
clergymen in those days). He was a reputed whig, an easy and
kind-tempered man with a sense of scholarship, but no power of
discipline, and no energy of desire to impress himself upon his
pupils. I recollect but one piece of advice received later from him.
It was that I should form my poetical taste upon Darwin, whose
poems (the ' Botanic Garden ' and ' Loves of the Plants ') I obedi-
ently read through in consequence. I was placed in the middle
remove fourth form, a place slightly better than the common run,
but inferior to what a boy of good preparation or real excellence
vould have taken. My nearest friend of the first period was
W. W. Farr, a boy of intelligence, something over my age, next
ak>ve nie in the school.

At this time there was not in me any desire to know or to
ex«*el. !My first pursuits were football and then cricket; the
first I did not long pursue, and in the second I never managed
to rise above mediocrity and what was termed 'the twenty-
two.' There was a barrister named Henry Hall Joy, a con-
D»^r'tion of my father through his first wife, and a man who had
taken a first-class at Oxford. He was very kind to me, and had
made some efforts to inspire me with a love of books, if not
of knowledge. Indeed I had read Froissart, and Hume with
Smollett, but only for the battles, and always skipping when I
came to the sections headed * A Parliament.' Joy had a taste for
classics, and made visions for me of honours at Oxford. But the
subject only danced before my eyes as a will-of-the-wisp, and
without attracting me. I remained stagnant without heart or

1 At Marlborough, Feb. 3, 1877 ; at Mill liiU School, June 11, 1879.

ZO EJOM

IUK}K h/ffffff' A ebaoge br/werer znired aboot Easter 1822. My

'' ^ ^ iHtturrH ' wa« then ttnd^r Hawtrej (afterwards head-master and

XWiwn. V^'f^^^h ^^^ ^^ alwa^'s oa the loc4caat for anj bud which he
cr/tild warm with a little sonshine.

\Ui alwajs described Hawtrej as the life of the school,
tlie msAn Uy whom Eton owed more than to any of her sons
durifi|( the c^.'ntury. Though not his papiL, it was from him
tliat Ciladstone, when in the fonrth fonn, received for the
flrMt time incentives to exertion. ^It was entirely due to
Ilawtrey/ he records in a fragment, *that I first owed the
rcwjption of a spark, the divinae particulam aurae^ and
conceived a dim idea, that in some time, manner, and
degree, I might come to know. Even then, as I had really
no instructor, my efforts at Eton, down to 1827, were perhaps
of the purest plodding ever known.'

Evidently he was not a boy of special mark during the
first three years at Eaton. In the evening he played chess
and cards, and usually lost. He claimed in after life that he
had once taken a drive in a hired tandem, but Etonians
who knew him as a schoolboy decided that an aspiring
mcjmory here made him boast of crimes that were not his.
lie was assiduous in the Eton practice of working a small
boat, whether skiff, funny, or wherry, single-handed. In the
masquerade of Montem he figured complacently in all the
glories of the costume of a Greek patriot, for he was a faith-
ful Canningite; the heroic struggle against the Turk was
at its fiercest, and it was the year when Byron died at
Missolonghi. Of Montem as an institution he thought
extremely ill, * the whole thing a wretched waste of time
and money, a most ingenious contrivance to exhibit us as
baboons, a bore in the full sense of the word.' He did not
stand aside from the harmless gaieties of boyish life, but he
rigidly refused any part in boyish indecorums. He was, in
short, just the diligent, cheerful, healthy-minded schoolboy
that any good father would have his son to be. He enjoys
himself with his brother at the Christopher, and is glad to
record that * Keate did not make any jaw about being so
late.' Half a dozen of them met every whole holiday or

SCHOOL DAYS 81

half, and went up Salt Hill to bully the fat waiter, eat
toasted cheese, and di*ink egg-wine.

He started, as we have already seen, in middle fourth ^~J^g
form. In the spring of 1822 Hawtrey said to him : * Con-
tinue to do as well as this, and I will send you up for good
again before the fourth of June.' Before the end of June,
he tells his sailor brother of his success : ^ It far exceeds the
most sanguine expectations I ever entertained. I haye got
into the remove between the fourth and fifth forms. I
have been sent up for good a second time, and have taken
seven places.' In the summer of 1823 he announces that
he has got into the fifth form after taking sixteen places,
and here instead of fagging he acquires the blessed power
himself to fag. In passing he laimches, for the first recorded
time, against the master of the remove from which he has
just been promoted, an invective that in volume and inten-
sity anticipates the wrath of later attacks on Neapolitan
kings and Turkish sultans.

His letters written from Eton breathe in every line the
warm breath of family affection, and of all those natural
pieties that had so firm a root in him from the beginning
to the end. Of the later store of genius and force that the
touch of time was so soon to kindle into full glow, they
gave but little indication. We smile at the precocious
«pia fandi that at thirteen describes the language of an
admonishing acquaintance as 'so friendly, manly, sound,
and disinterested that notwithstanding his faults I must
always think well of him.' He sends contributions to his
brother's scrap-book, and one of the first of them, oddly
enough, in view of one of the great preoccupations of his
later life, is a copy of Lord Edward Fitzgerald's stanzas on
the night of his arrest : —

* O Ireland, my country, the hour

Of thy pride and thy splendour has passed,
And the chain which was spurned in thy moment of power,
Hangs heavy around thee at last.'

The temper and dialect of evangelical religion are always
there. A friend of the family dies, and the boy pours out
bis r^ret, but after all what is the merely natural death of

82 BTON

Dr. N. compared with the awful state of a certain clergy-
man, also an intimate friend, who has not only been guilty
1821-27. ^^ attending a fancy ball, but has followed that vicious
prelude by even worse enormities unnamed, that surely
cannot escape the vigilance and the reproof of his bishop ?

His father is the steady centre of his life. * My father,'
he writes to his brother, ^ is as active in mind and projects
as ever ; he has two principal plans now in embryo. One
of these is a railroad between Liverpool and Manchester
for the conveyance of goods by locomotive-steam-engine.
The other is for building a bridge over the Mersey at Run-
corn.' In May 1827, the Gloucester and Berkeley canal is
opened : * a great and enterprising undertaking, but still
there is no fear of it beating Liverpool.' Meanwhile, * what
prodigiously quick travelling to leave Eton at twelve on
Monday, and reach home at eight on Tuesday ! ' * I have,'
he says in 1826, * lately been writing several letters in the
Liverpool Courier.^ His father had been attacked in the
local prints for sundry economic inconsistencies, and the con-
troversial pen that was to know no rest for more than seventy
years to come, was now first employed, like the pious ^neas
bearing off Anchises, in the filial duty of repelling his sire's
assailants. Ignorant of his nameless champion, John Glad-
stone was much amused and interested by the anonymous
* Friend to Fair Dealing,' while the son was equally diverted
by the criticisms and conjectures of the parent.

With the formidable Keate the boy seems to have fared
remarkably well, and there are stories that he was even one
of the tyrant's favourites.^ His school work was diligently

1 Doyle tells a story of the boy master] had complained, and who
being flogged for bringing wine into ought to have been flogged next day,
his study. When questioned on this, the names of three offenders. The
Mr. Gladstone said, * I was flogged, three boys in question got round me
but not for anything connected in with a story that their friends were
any way with wine, of which, by the coming down from London to see
by, my father supplied me with a them, and that if they were put
small amount, and insisted upon my down on the flogging list they could
drinking it, or some of it, all the not meet their friends. Next day
time that I was at Eton. The reason when 1 went into school H. roared
why I was flogged was this. I was out in a voice of thunder, '* Glad-
praepostor of the remove on a certain stone, put down your own name on
day, and from kindness or good the list of boys to be flogged.** * Mr.
nature was induced to omit from the Gladstone on this occasion told
list of boys against whom H. [the another tale of this worthy's

YOUTHFUL BEADINQ 83

supplemented. His daily reading in 1826 covers a good CHAP,
deal of miscellaneous ground, including Moliere and Racine, ^ ^ j
Blair's Sermons Q not very substantial '), Tom Jones^ Tom- j^ ^^^^g
line's Life of Pitt^ Waterland's Commentaries^ Leslie on
Deism^ Locke's Defence of The Reasonableness of Christianity^
which he finds excellent ; Paradise Lost^ Milton's Latin
Poems and Epitaphium Damonis ('exquisite'), Massinger's
Fat€U Ihwry ('most excellent'), Ben Jonson's Alchemist;
Scott, including the Bride of Lammermoor ('a beautiful
tale, indeed,' and in after life his favourite of them all),
Burke, Clarendon, and others of the shining host whose
very names are music to a scholar's ear. In the same year
he reads ' a most violent article on Milton by Macaulay, fair
and unfair, clever and silly, allegorical and bombastic, re-
publican and anti-episcopal — a strange composition, in-
deed.' In 1827 he went steadily through the second half
of Gibbon, whom he pronounces, 'elegant and acute as he
is, not so clear, so able, so attractive as Hume ; does not
impress my mind so much.' In the same year he reads
Coie's Walpole^ Don Quixote^ Hallam's Constitutional His-
tort/^ Measure for Mea9ure and Much Ado^ Massinger's O^rand
Ihike of Florence^ Ford's Love's Melancholy ('much of it
g«xxl, the end remarkably beautiful ') and Broken Heart
(which he liked better than either the other or 'Tis Pity)^
Locke on Toleration ('much repetition').

There is, of course, a steady refrain of Greek iambics,
Greek anapaests, ' an easy and nice metre,' ' a hodge-podge
lot of hendecasyllables,' and thirty alcaic stanzas for a holiday
task. Mention is made of many sermons on ' Redeeming
the time,' 'Weighed in the balance and found wanting,'
' Cease to do evil, learn to do well,' and the other ever unex-
hausted texts. One constant entry, we may be sure, is

•humour.' *Oiie day H. called out ejaculated the boy, with increased

It the i^aepostor, ** Write down emphasis. ** Praepostor, write down

Hamilton's name to be flogged for Hamilton's name for breaking my

breaking my window." **I never window, lying, and swearing."

broke yoor window, sir," exclaimed Against this final sentence there was

Hamilton. " Praepostor," retorted no appeal, and, accordingly, Hamil-

H^ *" write down Hamilton's name ton was flogged (I believe unjustly)

for breaking my window and lying." next day.' — F. Lawley in Daily

*• Upon my soul, sir, I did not do it," Telegraph, May 20, 1898.

TOL. I D

34 BTON

*' Read Bible,' with Mant's notes. In a mood of deep piety
he is prepared for confirmation. His appearance at this
1821-27. ^^® ^^ recalled by one who had been his fag, * as a good-
looking, rather delicate youth, with a pale face and brown
curling hair, always tidy and well dressed.' ^

He became captain of the fifth at the end of October
1826, and on February 20, 1827, Keate put him into the
sixth. * Was very civil, indeed ; told me to take pains, etc. ;
to be careful in using my authority, etc' He finds the
sixth very preferable to all other parts of the school, both
as regards pleasure and opportunity for improvement. They
are more directly under the eye of Keate ; he treats them
with more civility and speaks to them differently. So the
days follow one another very much alike — studious, cheer-
ful, sociable, sedulous. The debates in parliament take up
a good deal of his time, and he is overwhelmed by the
horrible news of the defeat of the catholics in the House
of Commons (March 8, 1827). On a summer's day in 1826,
*Mr. Canning here ; inquired after me and missed me.' He
viras not at Eton but at home when he heard of Mr. Canning's
death. ^ Personally I must remember his kindness and con-
descension, especially when he spoke to me of some verses
which H. Joy had injudiciously mentioned to him.'

II

Youthful intellect is imitative, and in a great school so
impregnated as Eton with the spirit of public life and
political association, the few boys with active minds
mimicked the strife of parliament in their debating society,
and copied the arts of journalism in the Mon Mi%ceUany.
In both fields the young Gladstone took a leading part. The
debating society was afl&icted with * the premonitory lethargy
of death,' but the assiduous energy of (Jaskell, seconded by
the gifts of Gladstone, Hallam, and Doyle, soon sent a new
pulse beating through it. The politics of the hour, that is
to say everything not fifty years off, were forbidden ground ;
but the execution of Strafford or of his royal master, the

^ Temple Bar, Feb. 1S88.

DEBATING SOCIETY 86

deposition of Richard ii., the last four years of the reign of OHAP.

Qneen Anne, the Peerage bill of 1719, the characters of ^•

Harley and Bolingbroke, were themes that could be made 1^ ^ '

by ingenious youth to admit a hundred cunning sidelights

upon the catholic question, the struggle of the Greeks for

independence, the hard case of Queen Caroline, and the

unlawfulness of swamping the tories in the House of Lords.

On duller afternoons they argued on the relative claims of

mathematics and metaphysics to be the better discipline of

the human mind ; whether duelling is or is not inconsistent

with the character that we ought to seek ; or whether the

education of the poor is on the whole beneficial. It was

on this last question (October 29, 1825) that the orator

who made his last speech seventy years later, now made

his first. * Made my first or maiden speech at the society,'

he enters in his diary, * on education of the poor ;

funked less than I thought I should, by much.' It is

a curious but a characteristic circumstance not that so

many of his Eton speeches were written out, but that the

manuscript should have been thriftily preserved by him

all through the long space of intervening years. *Mr.

President,' it begins, * in this land of liberty, in this age of

increased and gradually increasing civilization, we shall hope

to find few, if indeed any, among the higher classes who

are eager or willing to obstruct the moral instruction

and mental improvement of their fellow creatures in the

humbler walks of life. If such there are, let them at

length remember that the poor are endowed with the

same reason, though not blessed with the same temporal

advantages. Let them but admit, what I think no one can

deny, that they are placed in an elevated situation principally

for the purpose of doing good to their fellow creatures.

Then by what argument can they repel, by what pretence

can they evade the duty?' And so forth and so forth.

Already we seem to hear the bom speaker in the amplitude

of rhetorical form in which, juvenile though it may be, a

commonplace is cast. 'Is human grandeur so stable that

they may deny to others that which they would in an

^nmble situation desire themselves? Or has human pride

36 ETON

reached such a pitch of arrogance that they have learned to
defy both right and reason, to reject the laws of natural
1821-27. kindness that ought to reign in the breast of all, and to look
on their fellow countrymen as the refuse of mankind ? . . .
Is it morally just or politically expedient to keep down the
industry and genius of the artisan, to blast his rising hopes,
to queU his spirit? A thirst for knowledge has arisen in
the minds of the poor ; let them satisfy it with wholesome
nutriment and beware lest driven to despair,' et cetera.
Crude enough, if we please ; but the year was 1826, and we
may feel that the boyish speaker is already on the generous
side and has the gift of fruitful sympathies.

In the spacious tournaments of old history, we may smile
to hear debating forms and ceremony applied to everlasting
controversies. *Sir,' he opens on one occasion, *I declare
that as far as regards myself, I shall have very little difficulty
in stating my grounds on which I give my vote for James
Graham [the Marquis of Montrose]. It is because I look
upon him as a hero, not merely endowed with that animal
ferocity which has often been the sole qualification which
has obtained men that appellation from the multitude — I
should be sorry indeed if he had no testimonials of his
merits, save such sis arise from the mad and thoughtless
exclamations of popular applause.' In the same gallant
style (Jan. 26, 1826) he votes for Marcus Aurelius, in answer
to the question whether Trajan has any equal among the
Roman emperors from Augustus onwards. Another time
the question was between John Hampden and Clarendon.
*Sir, I look back with pleasure to the time when we
unanimously declared our disapprobation of the impeach-
ment of the Earl of Strafford. I wish I could hope for the
same unanimity now, but I will endeavour to regulate
myself by the same principles as directed me then. . . . Now,
sir, with regard to the impeachment of the five members, it
is really a little extraordinary to hear the honourable opener
talking of the violence offered by the king, and the terror
of the parliament. Sir, do we not all know that the king
at that time had neither friends nor wealth? . . . Did
the return of these members with a triumphant mob

ETON MISCELLANY 37

accompanying them indicate terror? Did the demands of
the parliament or the insolence of their language show it?'
So he proceeds through all the well-worn arguments; ^^^ jEft.U~l^
'therefore it is,' he concludes, *that I give my vote to the
Earl of Clarendon, because he gave his support to the falling
cause of monarchy; because he stood by his church and his
king; because he adopted the part which loyalty, reason,
and moderation combined to dictate. . . . Poverty, banish-
ment, and disgrace he endured without a murmur; he still
adhered to the cause of justice, he still denounced the
advocates of rebellion, and if he failed in his reward in life,
oh, sir, let us not deny it to him after death. In him, sir, I
ailmire the sound philosopher, the rigid moralist, the upright
statesman, the candid historian. ... In Hampden I see the
splendour of patriotic bravery obscured by the darkness of
rebellion, and the faculties by which he might have been a
real hero and real martyr, prostituted in the cause,' and so
on, with all the promise of the os magna saniturum^ of
which time was to prove tlie resources so inexhaustible. On
one great man he passed a final judgment that years did not
change: — * Debate on Sir R. Walpole: Hallam, Gaskell,
Pickering, and Doyle spoke. Voted for him. Last time,
when I was almost entirely ignorant of the subject, against
liira. There were sundry considerable blots, but nothing to
overbalance or to spoil the great merit of being the bulwark
of the protestant succession, his commercial measures, and
in general his pacific policy.' ^

As for the Eton Miscellany^ which was meant to follow
earlier attempts in the same line, the best-natured
critic cannot honestly count it dazzling. Such things
rarely are; for youth, though the most adorable of our
human stages, cannot yet have knowledge or practice
enough, whether in life or books, to make either good prose
or stirring verse, unless by a miracle of genius, and even that
inspiration is but occasional. The Microcosm (1786—87) and
the Etonian (1818), with such hands as Canning and Frere,
Moultrie and Praed, were well enough. The newcomer was
a long way behind these in the freshness, brilliance, daring,

1 Feb. 10, 1827.

88 ETON

by which only such juvenile performances can either please
or interest. George Selwyn and Gladstone were joint editors,
1821-27, *^d ^^^^ provided pretty copious efiFusions. * I cannot keep
my temper,' he wrote afterwards in his diary in 1835, on
turning over the Miscellany^ * in perusing my own (with few
exceptions) execrable productions,' Certainly his contribu-
tions have no particular promise or savour, no hint of the
strong pinions into which the half-fledged wings were in time
to expand. Their motion, such as it is, must be pronounced
mechanical; their phrase and cadence conventional. Even
when sincere feelings were deeply stirred, the flight cannot
be called high. The most moving public event in his school-
days was undoubtedly the death of Canning, and to Gladstone
the stroke was almost personal. In September 1827 he tells
his mother that he has for the first time visited Westminster
Abbey, — his object, an eager pilgrimage to the newly tenanted
grave of his hero, and in the Miscellany he pays a double
tribute. In the prose we hear sonorous things about
meridian splendour, premature extinction, and inscrutable
wisdom; about falling, like his great master Pitt, a victim
to his proud and exalted station; about being firm in
principle and conciliatory in action, the friend of improve-
ment and the enemy of innovation. Nor are the versified
reflections in Westminster Abbey much more striking: —

Oft in the sculptured aisle and swelling dome,
The 3rawning grave hath given the proud a home ;
Yet never welcomed from his bright career
A mightier victim tlian it welcomed here :
Again the tomb may yawn — again may death
Claim the last forfeit of departing breath ;
Tet ne'er enshrine in slumber dark and deep
A nobler, loftier prey than where thine ashes sleep.

Excellent in feeling, to be sure; but as a trial of poetic
delicacy or power, wanting the true note, and only worth
recalling for an instant as we go.

in
As nearly always happens, it was less by school work or
spoken addresses in juvenile debate, or early attempts in
the great and difficult art of written composition, than by

FBIENDS 89

blithe and congenial comradeship that the mind of the
joong Gladstone was stimulated, opened, strengthened. In
after days he commemorated among his friends George jSr. 12-18.
Selwyn, afterwards bishop of New Zealand and of Lichfield,
^ a man whose character is summed up, from alpha to omega,
in the single word, noble, and whose high office, in a large
measure, it was to reintroduce among the anglican clergy
the pure heroic type.* Another was Francis Doyle, * whose
genial character supplied a most pleasant introduction for
his unquestionable poetic genius.' A third was James
Milnes Gaskell, a youth endowed with precocious ripeness
of political faculty, an enthusiast, and with a vivacious
humour that enthusiasts often miss. Doyle said of him
that his nurse must have lulled him to sleep by parlia-
mentary reports, and his first cries on awaking in his cradle
must have been * hear, hear ' ! Proximity of rooms ' g^ave
occasion or aid to the formation of another very valuable
friendship, that with Gerald Wellesley, afterwards dean of
Windsor, which lasted, to my great profit, for some sixty
years, until that light was put out.' In Gaskell's room four
or five of them would meet, and discuss without restraint the
questions of politics that were too modem to be tolerated
in public debate. Most of them were friendly to catholic
emancipation, and to the steps by which Huskisson, sup-
ported by Canning, was cautiously treading in the path
towards free trade. The brightest star in this cheerful
constellation was the rare youth who, though his shining
course was run in two-and-twenty years, yet in that scanty
span was able to impress with his vigorous understanding
and graceful imagination more than one of the loftiest minds
of his time.^ Arthur Hallam was a couple of years younger
than Gladstone, no narrow gulf at that age ; but such was
the sympathy of genius, such the affinities of intellectual
interest and aspiration spoken and unspoken, such the
charm and the power of the younger with the elder, that
rapid instinct made them close comrades. They clubbed
together their rolls and butter, and breakfasted in one

^ Mr. Gladstone fixed on two of directly conveying the image of
the elegies of In Memoriam as most Arthur Hallam, cviii. and cxxviii.

40 BTON

another's rooms. Hallam was not strong enough for boat-
ing, so the more sinewy Gladstone used to scull him up to
1821-27. ^^® Shallows, and he regarded this toilsome carrying of an
idle passenger up stream as proof positive of no common
value set upon his passenger's company. They took walks
together, often to the monument of Gray, close by the
churchyard of the elegy ; arguing about the articles and the
creeds ; about Wordsworth, Byron, Shelley ; about free will,
for Hallam was precociously full of Jonathan Edwards ;
about politics, old and new, living and dead ; about Pitt and
Fox, and Canning and Peel, for Gladstone was a tory and
Hallam pure whig. Hallam was described by Mr. Gladstone
in his old age as one who ' enjoyed work, enjoyed society ;
and games which he did not enjoy he left contentedly aside.
His temper was as sweet as his manners were winning. His
conduct was without a spot or even a speck. He was that
rare and blessed creature, anima naturaliter Christiana.
He read largely, and though not superficial, yet with an
extraordinary speed. He had no high or exclusive ways.*
Thus, as so many have known in that happy dawn of life,
before any of the imps of disorder and confusion have found
their way into the garden, it was the most careless hours, —
careless of all save truth and beauty, — that were the hours
best filled.

Youth will commonly do anything rather than write
letters, but the friendship of this pair stood even that test.
The pages are redolent of a living taste for good books and
serious thoughts, and amply redeemed from strain or affecta-
tion by touches of gay irony and the collegian's banter.
Hallam applies to Gladstone Diomede's lines about Odysseus,
of eager heart and spirit so manful in all manner of toils, as
the only comrade whom a man would choose.^ But the Greek
hero was no doubt a complex character, and the parallel
is taken by Gladstone as an equivocal compliment. So
Hallam begs him at any rate to accept the other description,
how when he uttered his mighty voice from his chest, and
words fell like flakes of snow in winter, then could no mortal
man contend with Odysseus.^ As happy a forecast for the
1 mod, iii. 221. « Ibid, x. 242.

ABTHUB HALL AM 41

great orator of their generation, as when in 1829 he told chap.
Gladstone that Tennyson promised fair to be its greatest ^ ^^'
poet. Hallam's share in the correspondence reminds us of jg^ jg-ia
the friendship of two other Etonians ninety years before,
of the letters and verses that Gray wrote to Richard West ;
there is the same literary sensibility, the same kindness, but
there is what Gray and West felt not, the breath of a busy
and changing age. Each of these two had the advantage of
coming from a home where politics were not mere gossip
about persons and paragraphs, but were matters of trained
and continued interest. The son of one of the most eminent
of the brilliant band of the whig writers of that day, Hallam
passes glowing eulogies on the patriotism and wisdom of the
whigs in coalescing with Canning against the bigotry of the
king and the blunders of Wellington and Peel ; he contrasts
this famous crisis with a similar crisis in the early part of the
reign of George III . ; and observes how much higher all parties
stood in the balance of disinterestedness and public virtue.
He goes to the opera and finds Zucchelli admirable, Coradori
divine. He wonders (1826) about Sir Walter's forthcoming
life of Napoleon, how with his ultra principles Scott will
manage to make a hero of the Corsican. He asks if Glad-
stone has read ' the new Jovian Grey ' (1827) — tlie second
jmrt of that amazing fiction into which an author, not much
older than themselves and destined to strange historic rela-
tions with one of them, had the year before burst upon the
world. Hallam is not without the graceful melancholy of
youth, so different from that other melancholy of ripe years
and the deepening twilight. Under all is the recurrent note
of a grave refrain that fatal issues made pathetic.

* Never since the time when I first knew you,' Hallam
wrote to Gladstone (June 23, 1830), 'have I ceased to love
and respect your character. ... It will be my proudest
thought that I may henceforth act worthily of their affection
who, like yourself, have influenced my mind for good in the
earliest season of its development. Circumstance, my dear
(iladstone, has indeed separated our paths, but it can never
do away with what has been. The stamp of each of our
minds is on the other. Many a habit of thought in each is

42 ETOH

modified, many a feeling is associated, which never would
have existed in that combination, had it not been for the old
1821-27. familiar days when we lived together.'

In the summer of 1827 Hallam quitted Eton for the
journey to Italy that set so important a mark on his
literary growth, and he bade his friend farewell in words of
characteristic affection. ^ Perhaps you will pardon my doing
by writing what I hardly dare trust myself to do by words.
I received your superb Burke yesterday ; and hope to find
it a memorial of past and a pledge for future friendship
through both our lives. It is perhaps rather bold in me to
ask a favour immediately on acknowledging so great a one ;
but you would please me, and oblige me greatly, if you will
accept this copy of my father's book. It may serve when
I am separated from you, to remind you of one, whose
warmest pleasure it will always be to subscribe himself,
Your most faithful friend, A. H. H.'

A few entries from the schoolboy's diary may serve to
bring the daily scene before us, and show what his life was
like: —

October 3, 1826. — Holiday. Walk with HaUam. Wrote over
theme. Head Clarendon. Wrote speech for Saturday week
Poor enough. Did punishment set by Keate to all the fifth form
for being late in church.

October 6. — Fin. second Olympiad of Pindar. . . . Clarendon.
Did an abstract of about 100 pages. Wrote speech for to-morrow
in favour of Caesar.

November 13. — Play. Breakfast with Hallam. Bead a little
Clarendon. Bead over tenth Satire of Juvenal and read the
fifth, making quotations to it and some other places. Did a few
verses.

NovemI>er 14. — Holiday. Wrote over theme. Did verses.
Walked with Hallam and Doyle. Bead papers and debates. . . .
Bead 200 lines of Trachiniae. A little OU Blaa in French, and a
little Clarendon.

November 18. — Play. Bead papers, etc. Finished Blair's
Dissertation on Ossian. Finished Trachiniae. Did 3 props, of
Euclid. Question: Was deposition of Bichard n. justifiable?

FABEWBLL TO ETON 48

Voted na Qood debate. Finished the delightful oration Fro CHAP.
MUone. W^

November 21. — Holiday. . . . Part of article in Edinburgh jg^^^^i^^iQ^
Review on Icon Basilike, Bead Herodotus^ Clarendon. Did 3
props. Scrambling and leaping expedition with HaHam^ Doyle^
and GaskelL

November 30. — Holiday. Read Herodotus. Breakfasted with
GaskelL He and Hallam drank wine with me after 4. Walked
with Hallam. Did verses. Finished first book of Euclid. Bead
a little Charles XIL

Fdrruary 27 y 1827. — Holiday. Dressed (knee-breeches, etc.)
and went into school with Selwyn. Found myself not at all in a
funk, and went through my performance with tolerable comfort.
Dumford followed me, then Selwyn, who spoke well. Horrors of
speaking chiefly in the name.

March 20. — My father has lost his seat, and Berwick a repre-
sentative ten times too good for it. Wrote to my father, no
longer M.P. ; when we have forgotten the manner, the matter is
not so bad.

March 24. — Half-holiday. Play and learning it. Walked with
Hallam, read papers. Hallam drank wine with me after dinner.
Finished 8th vol. of Gibbon ; read account of Palmyra in second
volume ; did more verses on it. Much jaw about nothing at
Society, and absurd violence.

May 31. — Finished iambics. Wrote over for tutor. Played
cricket in the Upper Club, and had tea in poet's walk [an entry
repeated this summer].

June 26. — Wrote over theme. Read Iphigenie. Called up in
Homer. Sculled Hallam to Surly after 6. Went to see a cricket
match after 4.

Gladstone's farewell to Eton came with Christmas (1827).
He writes to his sister his last Etonian letter (December 2)
before departure, and 'melancholy that departure is.' On
the day before, he had made his valedictory speech to the
Society, and the empty shelves and dismantled walls, the
table strewn with papers, the books packed away in their
boxes, have the effect of ' mingling in one lengthened mass
all the boyish hopes and solicitudes and pleasures' of his

44 ETON

Eton life. ^ I have long ago made up my mind that I have
of late been enjoying what will in all probability be, as far as
1821-27. '^y ^^'^^ individual case is concerned, the happiest years of
my life. And they have fled ! From these few facts do we
not draw a train of reflections awfully important in their
nature and extremely powerful in their impression on the
mind ? '

Two reminiscences of Eton always g^ve him, and those
who listened to him, much diversion whenever chance
brought them to his mind, and he has set them down in
an autobiographic fragment, for which this is the place : —

To Dr. Keate nature had accorded a stature of only about five
feet, or say five feet one ; but by costume, voice, manner (includ-
ing a little swagger), and character he made himself in every way
the capital figure on the Eton stage, and his departure marked, I
imagine, the departure of the old race of English public school
masters, as the name of Dr. Busby seems to mark its introduction.
In connection with his name I shall give two anecdotes separated
by a considerable interval of years. About the year 1820, the
eloquence of Dr. Edward Irving drew crowds to his church in
London, which was presbyterian. It required careful previous
arrangements to secure comfortable accommodation. The preacher
was solemn, majestic (notwithstanding the squint), and impres-
sive; carrying all the appearance of devoted earnestness. My
father had on a certain occasion, when I was still a small Eton
boy, taken time by the forelock, and secured the use of a con-
venient pew in the first rank of the gallery. From this elevated
situation we surveyed at ease and leisure the struggling crowds
below. The crush was everywhere great, but greatest of all in
the centre aisle. Here the mass of human beings, mercilessly
compressed, swayed continually backwards and forwards. There
was I, looking down with infinite complacency and satisfaction
from this honourable vantage ground upon the floor of the
church, filled and packed as one of our public meetings is, with
people standing and pushing. What was my emotion, my joy,
my exultation, when I espied among this humiliated mass,
struggling and buffeted — whom but Keate! Keate the master
of our existence, the tyrant of our days! Pure, unalloyed,

DB. KEATS 4.3

onadiilterated rapture! Such a ir€piwer€ULf such a reversal of CHAP,
human conditions of being, as that now exhibited between the ^^
Eton lower boy uplifted to the luxurious gallery pew, and thcj^^ ^^^^
head-master of Eton, whom I was accustomed to see in the roomy
deck of the upper school with vacant space and terror all
around him, it must be hard for any one to conceive, except
the two who were the subjects of it. Never, never, have I
forgotten that moment.^

I will now, after the manner of novelists, ask my reader to effect
along with me, a transition of some eighteen years, and to witness
another, and if not a more complete yet a worthier, turning of the
tables. In the year 1841 there was a very special Eton dinner
held in Willis's Rooms to commemorate the fourth centenary
of the ancient school. Lord Morpeth, afterwards Lord Carlisle,
was in the chair. On his right, not far off him, was Dr. Keate,
to whom I chanced to have a seat almost immediately opposite.
In those days, at public dinners, cheering was marked by gradar
tions. As the Queen was suspected of sympathy with the liberal
government of Lord Melbourne which advised her, the toast of
the sovereign was naturally received with a moderate amount of
acclamation, decently and thriftily doled out. On the other hand
the Queen Dowager either was, or was believed to be, conservative ;
and her health consequently figured as the toast of the evening,
and drew forth, as a matter of course, by far its loudest acclama-
tion. So much was routine; and we went through it as usual.
But the real toast of the evening was yet to come. 1 suppose it
to be beyond doubt that of the assembled company the vastly
preponderating majority had been under his sway at Eton ; and
if, when in that condition, any one of them had been asked how
he liked Dr. Keate, he would beyond question have answered,
'Keate? Oh, I hate him.' It is equally beyond doubt that to
the persons of the whole of them, with the rarest exceptions, it
had been the case of Dr. Keate to administer the salutary correc-
tion of the birch. But upon this occasion, when his name had
been announced the scene was indescribable. Queen and Queen
Dowager alike vanished into insignificance. The roar of cheering

I I have heard him tell this story, reproduced a schoolboy *s glee with
and Garrick himself could not have more admirable accent and gesture.

46 ETON

had a beginning^ but never knew satiety or end. Like the huge
waves at Biarritz, the floods of cheering continually recommenced ;
1821-27. ^® whole process was such that we seemed all to have lost our
self-possession and to be hardly able to keep our seats. When
at length it became possible Keate rose : that is to say, his head
was projected slightly over the heads of his two neighbours. He
struggled to speak; I will not say I heard every syllable, for
there were no syllables ; speak he could not. He tried in vain to
mumble a word or two, but wholly failed, recommenced the vain
struggle and sat down. It was certainly one of the most moving
spectacles that in my whole life I have witnessed.

IV

Some months passed between leaving Eton and going to
Oxford. In January 1828, Gladstone went to reside with Dr.
Turner at Wilmslow in Cheshire, and remained there until
Turner was made Bishop of Calcutta. The bishop's pupil
afterwards testified to his amiability, refinement, and devout-
ness ; but the days of his energy were past, and ^ the religious
condition of the parish was depressing.' Among the neigh-
bouring families, with whom he made acquaintance while at
Wilmslow, were the Gregs of Quarry Bank, a refined and
philanthropic household, including among the sons William
R. Greg (born in the same year as Mr. Gladstone), that
ingenious, urbane, interesting, and independent mind, whose
speculations, dissolvent and other, were afterwards to take
an effective place in the writings of the time. ^ I fear he is
a unitarian,' the young churchman mentions to his father,
and gives sundry reasons for that sombre apprehension ;
it was, indeed, only too well founded.

While at Wilmslow (Feb. 5, 1828) Gladstone was taken
to dine with the rector of Alderley — ' an extremely gentle-
manly and said to be a very clever man,' — afterwards to
be known as the liberal and enlightened Edward Stanley,
Bishop of Norwich, and father of Arthur Stanley, the famous
dean. Him, on this occasion, the young Gladstone seems
to have seen for the first time. Arthur Stanley was six
years his junior, and there was then some idea of sending
him to Eton. As it happened, he too was a pupil at

AT Wn-MSLOW 47

Raw8on*8 at Seaforth, and in the summer after the meeting chap.
at Alderley the two lads met again. The younger of them ^ ^ ,
has described how he was invited to breakfast with William j^^ 12-18.
Gladstone at Seaforth House ; in what grand style they
breakfasted, how he devoured strawberries, swam the New-
foundland dog in the pond, looked at books and pictures,
and talked to W. Gladstone * almost all the time about all
sorts of things. He is so very good-natured, and I like him
very much. He talked a great deal about Eton, and said
that it was a very good place for those who liked boating
and Latin verses. He was very good-natured to us all the
time, and lent me books to read when we went away.'^ A
few months later, as all the world knows, Stanley, happily
for himself and for all of us, went not to Eton but to Rugby,
where Arnold had just entered on his bold and noble task of
changing the face of education in England.

^ Prothero*s Lift ofDtan Stanley, L p. 22.

CHAPTER m

OXFORD

(^October 1828-December 1831)

Stbbpbd in sentiment as she lies, spreading her gardens to the
moonlight, and whispering from her towers the last enchantmenu
of the Biiddle Age, who will deny that Oxford, by her ineffable
charm, keeps eyer calling us nearer to the true goal of all of us, to
the ideal, to perfection — to beauty, in a word, which is only truth
seen from another side ? — M. Abvold.

Globious to most are the days of life in a great school, but
it is at college that aspiring talent first enters on its in-
jg^ heritance. Oxford was slowly awakening from a long age
of lethargy. Toryism of a stolid clownish type still held
the thrones of collegiate power. Yet the eye of an ima-
ginative scholar as he gazed upon the grey walls, reared
by piety, munificence, and love of learning in a far-oflf
time, might well discern behind an unattractive screen of
academic sloth, the venerable past, not dim and cold, but
in its traditions rich, nourishing, and alive. Such an one
could see before him present days of honourable emulation
and stirring acquisition — fit prelude of a man's part to play in
a strenuous future. It is from Gladstone's introduction into
this enchanted and inspiring world, that we recognise the
beginning of the wonderful course that was to show how
great a thing the life of a man may be made.

The Eton boy became the Christ Church man, and there
began residence, October 10, 1828. Mr. Gladstone's rooms,
during most of his undergraduate life, were on the right
hand, and on the first floor of the staircase on the right,
as one enters by the Canterbury g^te. He tells his
mother that they are in a very fashionable part of the
college, and mentions as a delightful fact, that G^iskell and

48

CHRIST CHURCH 49

Seymer have rooms on the same floor. Samuel Smith was chap.
head until 1831, when he was succeeded by the more cele- , ^^^' j
brated Dr. Gaisford, always described by Mr. Gladstone as j^^ ^9
a splendid scholar, but a bad dean. Gaisford's excellent
services to the Greek learning of his day are unquestioned,
and he had the signal merit of speech. Spartan brevity.
For a short time in 1806 he had been tutor to Peel. When
Lord Liverpool offered him the Greek professorship, with
profuse compliments on his erudition, the learned man replied,
*My Lord, I have received your letter, and accede to the
contents. — Yours, T. G.' And to the complaining parent of
an undergraduate he wrote, ' Dear Sir, — Such letters as yours
are a great annoyance to your obedient servant T. Gais-
ford.' ^ This laconic gift the dean evidently had not time
to transmit to all of his flock.

Christ Church in those days was infested with some
rowdyism, and in one bear-fight an undergraduate was
actually killed. In the chapel the new undergraduate
found little satisfaction, for the service was scarcely per-
formed with common decency. There seems, however, to
have been no irreconcilable prejudice against reading, and
in the schools the college was at the top of its academic
fame. The influence of Cyril Jackson, the dean in Peel's
time, whose advice to Peel and other pupils to work like
a tiger, and not to be afraid of killing one's self by work,
was still operative.^ At the summer examination of 1830,
Clirist Church won five first classes out of ten. Most
commoners, according to a letter of Gaskell's, had from
three hundred and fifty to five hundred pounds a year ; but
gentlemen commoners like Acland and Gaskell had from
five to six hundred. At the end of 1829, Mr. Gladstone
received a studentship honoris causa, by nomination of the
dean — a system that would not be approved in our epoch of

* Charles Wordsworth's Annals. his comprehension and the unerring

• After Peel had begun his career, accuracy of all his conceptions. If
Jackson gave him a piece of advice you will but read him four or five
that would have pleased Mr. Glad- times over every year, in half a dozen
stone: — 'Let no day pass without years you will know him by heart,
your having Homer in your hand, and he well deserves it.' — Parker's
Elevate your own mind by con- Life of Sir R. Peelj i. p. 28.

tinoal meditation on the vastness of

VOL. I — E

50 OXFOBD

competitiye examination, but still an advance upon the
time-honoured practice of deans and canons disposing of
1828. studentships on grounds of private partiality without refer-
ence to desert. We maj assume that the dean was not
indifferent to academic promise when he tcid Gladstone, very
good-naturedlj and civilly, that he had determined to offer
him his nomination. The student desig^nate wrote a theme,
read it out before the chapter, passed a nominal, or even
farcical, examination in Homer and Virgil, was elected as
matter of course by the chapter, and after chapel on the
morning of Christmas eve, having taken several oaths,
was formally admitted in the name of the Holy Trinity.

Mr. Biscoe, his classical tutor, was a successful lecturer on
Aristotle, especially on the Rhetoric. With Charles Words-
worth, son of the master of Trinity at Cambridge, and
afterwards Bishop of Saint Andrews, he read for scholarship,
apparently not wholly to his own satisfaction. While still
an undergraduate, he writes to his father (Nov. 2, 1830),
*I am wretchedly deficient in the knowledge of modem
languages, literature, and history ; and the classical know-
ledge acquired here, though sound, accurate, and useful, yet
is not such as to complete an education.' It looked, in truth,
as if the caustic saying of a brilliant colleague of his in
later years were not at the time unjust, as now it would
happily be, that it was a battle between Eton and education,
and Eton had won.

Mr. Gladstone never to the end of his days ceased to be
grateful that Oxford was chosen for his university. At
Cambridge, as he said in discussing Hallam's choice, the
pure refinements of scholarship were more in fashion than
the study of the gpreat masterpieces of antiquity in their
substance and spirit. The classical examination at Oxford,
on the other hand, was divided into the three elastic depart-
ments of scholarship and poetry, history, and philosophy.
In this list, history somewhat outweighed the scholar-
ship, and philosophy was somewhat more regarded than
history. In each case the examination turned more on
contents than on form, and the influence of Butier was at
its climax.

CHARACTER OF OXFORD TEACHIKG 51

If Mr. Gladstone had gone to Oxford ten years earlier,
he would have found the Ethics and the Rhetoric treated,
only much less effectively, in the Cambridge method, like jgf^i^
dramatists and orators, as pieces of literature. As it was,
Whately's common sense had set a new fashion, and Aristotle
was studied as the master of those who know how to teach
OS the right way about the real world.^ Aristotle, Butler,
and logic were the new acquisitions, but in none of the
three as yet did the teaching go deep compared with modern
standards. Oxford scholars of our own day question whether
there was even one single tutor in 1830, with the possible
exception of Hampden, who could expound Aristotle as a
whole — so utterly had the Oxford tradition perished.^

The time was in truth the eve of an epoch of illumination,
and in these epochs it is not old academic systems that the
new light is wont to strike with its first rays. The summer
of 1831 is the date of Sir William Hamilton's memorable
exposure,* in his most trenchant and terrifying style and
with a learning all his own, of the corruption and * vampire
oppression of Oxford ' ; its sacrifice of the public interests to
private advantage ; its unhallowed disregard of every moral
and religious bond ; the systematic perjury so naturalised in a
great seminary of religious education ; the apathy with which
the injustice was tolerated by the state and the impiety
tolerated by the church. Copleston made a wretched reply,
but more than twenty years passed before the spirit of
reform overthrew the entrenchments of academic abuse.
In that overthrow, when the time came, Mr. Gladstone was
called to play a part, though hardly at first a very zealous
one. This was not for a quarter of a century ; for, as we
shall soon see, both the revival of learning and the reform
of institutions at Oxford were sharply turned aside from
their expected course by the startling theological movement
that now proceeded from her venerable walls.

What interests us here is not the system but the man ;
and never was vital temperament more admirably fitted

^ On the four periods of Aristotelian * Ibid. i. p. 465.

itady at OxfoTxi in the first half of « Reprinted from the Edinburgh

the century see Pattison^s Essays, i. Bemero in Discussiojis on Philosophy

p. 46:3. and Literature, pp. 401-660. (1852.)

52 OXFOBD

BOOK by its vigour, sincerity, conscience, compass, for whatever
^ ^ J good seed from the hand of any sower might be cast upon
1829. ^^' I^ ^^ entry in his diary in the usual strain of evangelical
devotion (April 25, 1830) is a sentence that reveals what
was in Mr. Gladstone the nourishing principle of growth :
*In practice the great end is that the love of God may
become the habit of my soul, and particularly these things
are to be sought : — 1. The spirit of love. 2. Of self-sacrifice.
3. Of purity. 4. Of energy.' Just as truly as if we were
recalling some hero of the seventeenth or any earlier century,
is this the biographic clue.

Gladstone constantly reproaches himself for natural indo-
lence, and for a year and a half he took his college course
pretty easily. Then he changed. 'The time for half-
measures and trifling and pottering, in which I have so
long indulged myself, is now gone by, and I must do or
die.' His really hard work did not begin until the summer
of 1830, when he returned to Cuddesdon to read mathe-
matics with Saunders, a man who had the reputation of
being singularly able and stimulating to his pupils, and
with whom he had done some rudiments before going into
residence at Christ Church. In his description of this
gentleman to his father, we may hear for the first time the
redundant roll that was for many long years to be so
familiar and so famous. Saunders' disposition, it appears,
' is one certainly of extreme benevolence, and of a benevo-
lence which is by no means less strong and full when purely
gratuitous and spontaneous, than when he seems to be under
the tie of some definite and positive obligation.' Dr. Gais-
ford would perhaps have put it that the tutor was no
kinder where his kindness was paid for, than where it
was not.

The catholic question, that was helping many another and
older thing to divide England from Ireland, after having
for a whole generation played havoc with the fortunes of
party and the careers of statesmen, was now drawing swiftly
to its close. The Christ Church student had a glimpse of
one of the opening scenes of the last act. He writes to his
brother (Feb. 6th, 1829) : —

GATHOLIO EMANCIPATION 63

I saw yesterday a most interesting scene in the Convocation
house. The occasion was the debate on the anti-catholic petition,
which it has long been the practice of the university to send up j^ ^
year by year. This time it was worded in the most gentle and
moderate terms possible. All the ordinary business there, is
transacted in Latin ; I mean such things as putting the question,
speaking, etc., and this rule, I assure you, stops many a mouth,
and I dare say saves the Koman catholics many a hard word.
There were rather above two hundred doctors and masters of arts
present- Three speeches were made, two against and one in
favour of sending up the petition. Instead of aye and no they
had placet and non-placet^ and in place of a member dividing the
House, the question was, ^^Petitne aliquis scrutiniumf which was
answered by "Peto /" "Peto /" from many quarters. However,
when the scrutiny took place, it was found that the petition
was carried by 156 to 48. . . . After the division, however,
came the most interesting part of the whole. A letter from
Peel, resigning the seat for the university, was read before the
assembly. It was addressed to the vice-chancellor and had
arrived just before, it was understood; and I suppose brought
hither the first positive and indubitable announcement of the
gcfvemment's intention to emancipate the catholics.

A few days later, Peel accepted the Chiltern Hundreds,
and after some deliberation allowed himself to be again
brought forward for re-election. He was beaten by 755
votes to 609. The relics of the contest, the figures and the
inscriptions on the walls, soon disappeared, but panic did
not abate. On Gladstone's way to Oxford (April 30, 1829),
a farmer's wife got into the coach, and in communicative
vein informed him how frightened they had all been about
catholic emancipation, but she did not see that so much had
come of it as yet. The college scout declared himself much
troubled for the king's conscience, observing that if we make
an oath at baptism, we ought to hold by it. 'The bed-
makers,' Gladstone writes home, ' seem to continue in a great
fright, and mine was asking me this morning whether it
would not be a very good thing if we were to give them [the
Irish] a king and a parliament of their own, and so to have

54 OXFOBD

BOOK no more to do with them. The old egg-woman is no whit
J easier, and wonders how Mr. Peel, who was always such a

1829. well-behaved man here, can be so foolish as to think of
letting in the Roman catholics.' The unthinking and the
ignorant of all classes were much alike. Arthur Hallam
went to see King John in 1827, and he tells his friend how
the lines about the Italian priest (Act ni. Sc. 1) provoked
rounds of clapping, while a gentleman in the next box cried
out at the top of his voice, ' Bravo ! Bravo ! No Pope I ' The
same correspondent told Gladstone of the father of a common
Eton friend, who had challenged him with the overwhelming
question, ^ Could I say that any papist had ever at any time
done any good to the world ? ' A still stormier conflict than
even the emancipation of the catholics was now to shake
Oxford and the country to the depths, before Mr. Gladstone
took his degree.

n

His friendships at Oxford Mr. Gladstone did not consider
to have been as a rule very intimate. Principal among
them were Frederick Rogers, long afterwards Lord Blachford;
Doyle ; Gaskell ; Bruce, afterwards Lord Elgin ; Charles
Canning, afterwards Lord Canning ; the two Denisons ; Lord
Lincoln. These had all been his friends at Eton. Among
new acquisitions to the circle of his intimates at one time or
another of his Oxford life, were the two Aclands, Thomas
and Arthur ; Hamilton, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury ;
Phillimore, destined to close and life-long friendship ; F. D.
Maurice, then of Exeter College, a name destined to stir so
many minds in the coming generation. Of Maurice, Arthur
Hallam had written to Gladstone (June 1880) exhorting him
to cultivate his acquaintance. ^ I know many,' says Hallam,
^ whom Maurice has moulded like a second nature, and these
too, men eminent for intellectual power, to whom the pres-
ence of a commanding spirit would in all other cases be a
signal rather for rivalry than reverential acknowledgment.*
*I knew Maurice well,' says Mr. Gladstone in one of his
notes of reminiscence, ^had heard superlative accounts of
him from Cambridge, and really strove hard to make them

OXFORD FRIENDSHIPS 55

all realities to myself. One Sunday morning we walked chap.
to Marsh Baldon to hear Mr. Porter, the incumbent, a ^ ^^' ^
calvinist independent of the clique^ and a man of remarkable j^ 20
power as we both thought. I think he and other friends
did me good, but I got little solid meat from him, as I
found him difficult to catch and still more difficult to hold.'
Sidney Herbert, afterwards so dear to him, now at Oriel,
here first became an acquaintance. Manning, though they
both read with the same tutor, and one succeeded the other
as president of the Union, he did not at this time know
well. The lists of his guests at wines and breakfasts do not
even contain the name of James Hope ; indeed, Mr. Glad-
stone tells us that he certainly was not more than an ac-
quaintance. In the account of intimates is the unexpected
name of Tupper, who, in days to come, acquired for a time
a grander reputation than he deserved by his Proverbial
Philosophy^ and on whom the public by and by avenged
its own foolishness by severer doses of mockery than he
had earned.^ The friend who seems most to have affected
him in the deepest things was Anstice, whom he describes
to his father (June 4, 1830) as ' a very clever man, and more
than a clever man, a man of excellent principle and of
perfect self-command, and of great industry. If any circum-
stances could confer upon me the inestimable blessing of
fixed habits and unremitting industry, these [the example of
such a man] will be they.' The diary tells how, in August
(1830), Mr. Gladstone conversed with Anstice in a walk from
Oxford to Cuddesdon on subjects of the highest importance.
' Thoughts then first sprang up in my soul (obvious as tliey
may appear to many) which may powerfully influence my
destiny. O for a light from on high ! I have no power,
none, to discern the right path for myself.' They afterwards
had long talks together, ' about that awful subject which has
lately almost engrossed my mind.' Another day — 'Conver-
sation of an hour and a half with Anstice on practical reli-
gion, particularly as regards our own situation. I bless and

1 Tapper {My Life^ etc., p. 63, and John ' ; but Gladstone was so

1886) mentions that he beat Mr. good a second that Dr. Burton begged

Gladstone for the Burton theological that one-fifth of the prize money

essay, ^The Reconciliation of Matthew might be given to him as solatium.

56 OXFORD

praise God for his presence here.' ' Long talk with Anstice ;
would I were more worthy to be his companion.' 'Conver-
1829. sation with Anstice ; he talked much with Saunders on the
motive of actions, contending for the love of God, not selfish-
ness even in its most refined form.' ^

In the matter of his own school of religion, Mr. Gladstone
was always certain that Oxford in his undergraduate days
had no part in turning him from an evangelical into a high
churchman. The tone and dialect of his diary and letters
at the time show how just this impression was. We find
him in 1830 expressing his satisfaction that a number of
Hannah More's tracts have been put on the list of the
Christian Knowledge Society. In 1831 he bitterly deplores
such ecclesiastical appointments as those of Sydney Smith
and Dr. Maltby, ' both of them, I believe, regular latitudi-
narians.' He remembered his shock at Butler's laudation
of Nature. He was scandalised by a sermon in which Calvin
was placed upon the same level among heresiarchs as
Socinus and other like aliens from gospel truth. He was
delighted (March 1830) with a university sermon against
Milman's Hutory of the Jew8^ and hopes it may be useful
as an antidote, ^for Milman, though I do think without
intentions directly evil, does go far enough to be justly called
a bane. For instance, he says that had Moses never existed,
the Hebrew nation would have remained a degraded pariah
tribe or been lost in the mass of the Egyptian population
— and this notwithstanding the promise.' In all his
letters in the period from Eton to the end of Oxford and
later, a language noble and exalted even in these youthful
days is not seldom copiously streaked with a vein that, to
eyes not trained to evangelical light and to minds not
tolerant of the expansion that comes to religious natures in
the days of adolescence, may seem unpleasantly strained and
excessive. The fashion of such words undergoes trans-
figuration as the epochs pass. Yet in all their fashions, even
the crudest, they deserve much tenderness. He consults a
clergyman (1829) on the practice of prayer meetings in his

^ Anstice was afterwards professor cut off prematurely at the age of
of Classics at King*s College, and was thirty. See below, p. 134.

EVANGELICAL IN BELIGION 57

rooms. His correspondent answers, that as the wicked haye CHAP,
their orgies and meet to gamble and to drink, so they that ^ ' ^
fear the Lord should speak often to one another concerning ^^^^^0.
Him ; that prayer meetings are not for the cultivation or
exhibition of gifts, nor to enable noisy and forward young
men to pose as leaders of a school of prophets ; but if a few
young men of like tastes feel the withering influence of mere
scholastic learning, and the necessity of mutual stimulation
and refreshment, then such prayer meetings would be a safe
and natural remedy. The student's attention to all religious
observances was close and unbroken, the most living part of
his existence.

The movement that was to convulse the church had not
yet begun. ' You may smile,' Mr. Gladstone said long after,
*when told that when I was at Oxford, Dr. Hampden was
regarded as a model of orthodoxy ; that Dr. Newman was
eyed with suspicion as a low churchman, and Dr. Pusey
as leaning to rationalism.' What Mr. Gladstone afterwards
described as a steady, clear, but dry anglican orthodoxy bore
sway, * and frowned this way or that, on the first indication
of any tendency to diverge from the beaten path.' ^ He hears
Whately preach a controversial sermon (1831) just after he
had been made Archbishop of Dublin. ' Doubtless he is a
man of much power and many excellences, but his anti-
sabbatical doctrine is, I fear, as mischievous as it is unsound.*
A sermon of Keble's at St. Mary's prompts the uneasy
question, *Are all Mr. Keble's opinions those of scripture
and the church ? Of his life and heart and practice, none
could doubt, all would admire.' A good sermon is mentioned
from Blanco White, that strange and forlorn figure of whom
in later life Mr. Gladstone wrote an interesting account, not
conclusive in argument, but assuredly not wanting in either
delicacy or generosity.^ 'Dr. Pusey was very kind to me
when I was an undergraduate at Oxford,' he says, but what
their relations were I know not. 'I knew and respected
both Bishop Lloyd and Dr. Pusey,' he says, ' but neither of
them attempted to exercise the smallest influence over my
religious opinions.' With Newman he seems to have been
1 Gleanings, vii. p. 141. « Ibid, iu p. 1.

68 OXFORD

BOOK brought into contact hardly at all.^ Newman and one of
^ ^ y the Wilberforces came to dine at Cuddesdon one day, and,
on a later occasion, he and another fellow of Oriel were at
a dinner with Mr. Gladstone at the table of his friend Philip
Pusey. Two or three of his sermons are mentioned. One
of them (March 7, 1831) contained ^much singular, not to
say objectionable matter, if one may so speak of so good a
man.' Of another, — ' heard Newman preach a good sermon
on those who made excuse ' (Sept. 25, 1831). Of the gen-
erality of university sermons, he accepted the observation
of his friend Anstice, — ^ Depend upon it, such sermons as
those can never convert a single person.' On some Sundays
he hears two of these discourses in the morning and after-
noon, and a third sermon in the evening, for though he
became the most copious of all speakers, Mr. Gladstone was
ever the most generous of listeners. It was at St. Ebb's
that he found really congenial ministrations — an ecclesias-
tical centre described by him fifty years later — under Mr.
Bulteel, a man of some note in his day ; here the flame was
at white heat, and a score or two of young men felt its
attractions.^ He always remembered among the wonderful
sights of his life, St. Mary's ' crammed in all parts by all
orders, when Mr. Bulteel, an outlying calvinist, preached his
accusatory sermon (some of it too true) against the univer-
sity.' In the summer of 1830, Mr. Gladstone notes, ' Poor
Bulteel has lost his church for preaching in the open
air. Pity that he should have acted so, and pity that it
should be found necessary to make such an example of a
man of God.' The preacher was impenitent, for from a
window Mr. Gladstone again heard him conduct a service
for a large congregation who listened attentively to a sermon
that was interesting, but evinced some soreness of spirit.
A 'most painful' discourse from a Mr. Crowther so moves
Mr. Gladstone that he sits down to write to the preacher,
* earnestly expostulating with him on the character and the
doctrines of the sermon,' and after re- writing his letter, he

^Parcell {Manning, i. p. 46) makes friends in common.' This mnst be
Mr. Gladstone say, * I was intimate erroneously reported,
with Newman, but then we had many ^ Gleanings, yiL p. 211.

ESSAY CLX7B 59

delivers it with his own hand at the door of the displeasing CHAP,
divine. The effect was not other than salutary, for a little ^ ^^^ j
later he was * happy to hear two sermons of good principles ^^ go
from Mr. Crowther. ' To his father, October 27, 1830 : — ' Dr.
Chalmers has been passing through Oxford, and I went to
hear him preach on Sunday evening, though it was at the
baptist chapel. ... I need hardly say that his sermon was
admirable, and quite as remarkable for the judicious and
sober manner in which he enforced his views, as for their
lofty principles and piety. He preached, I think, for an
hour and forty minutes.' The admiration thus first aroused
only grew with fuller knowledge in the coming years.

An Essay Club, called from its founder's initials the
W E G, was formed at a meeting in Gaskell's rooms in
October, 1829. Only two members out of the first twelve did
not belong to Christ Church, Rogers of Oriel and Moncreiff
of New.^ The Essay Club's transactions, though not very
serious, deserve a glance. Mr. Gladstone reads an essay
(Feb. 20, 1830) on the comparative rank of poetry and
philosophy, concluding with a motion that the rank of
philosophy is higher than that of poetry : it was beaten by
seven to five. Without a division, they determined that
English poetry is of a higher order than Greek. The truth
of the principles of phrenology was affirmed with the
tremendous emphasis of eleven to one. Though trifling in
degree, the influence of the modern drama was pronounced
in quality pernicious. Gladstone gave his casting vote
against the capacious proposition, of which philosophers had
made so much in France, Switzerland, and other places on
the eve of the French revolution, that education and other
outward circumstances have more than nature to do with
man's disposition. By four to three, Mr. Tennyson's poems
were affirmed to show considerable genius, Gladstone happily
in the too slender majority. The motion that 'political

^ Sir Thomas Acland gives the Acland (1889) mentions these twelve

names of the first twelve members as names, and adds * from the old book

follows: Gladstone, Gaskell, Doyle, of record,' Bruce, J., Bruce, F.,

Moncreifif, Seymer, Rogers, two Egerton, Liddell, Lincoln, Lushing-

Aclands, Leader, Anstice, Harrison, ton, Maurice, Oxenham, Vaughan,

Cole. Mr. Gladstone in a letter to Thornton, C. Marriott.

60 OXFORD

liberty is not to be considered as the end of government '
was a great affair. Maurice, who had been admitted to the
1880. ^l^b on coming to Oxford from Cambridge, moved an amend-
ment ' that every man has a right to perform certain personal
duties with which no system of government has a right to
interfere.' Gladstone 'objected to an observation that had
fallen from the mover, "A man finds himself in the world," as
if he did not come into the world under a debt to his parents,
under obligations to society.' The tame motion of Lord
Abercorn, that Elizabeth's conduct to Mary Queen of Scots
was unjustifiable and impolitic, was stiffened into ' not only
unjustifiable and impolitic, but a base and treacherous
murder,' and in that severe form was carried without a
division.

Plenty of nonsense was talked we may be sure, and so
there was, no doubt, in the Olive Grove of Academe or amid
those surnamed Peripatetics and the Sect Epicurean. Yet
nonsense notwithstanding, the Essay Club had members
who proved in time to have superior minds if ever men had,
and their disputations in one another's rooms helped to
sharpen their mental apparatus, to start trains of ideas
however immature, and to shake the cherished dogmatisms
brought from beloved homes, even if dogmatism as stringent
took their place. This is how the world moves, and Oxford
was just beginning to rub its eyes, awaking to the specula-
tions of a new time.

When he looked back in after times, Mr. Gladstone traced
one great defect in the education of Oxford. ' Perhaps it was
my own fault, but I must admit that I did not learn when I
was at Oxford that which I have learned since — namely, to
set a due value on the imperishable and inestimable principle
of British liberty. The temper which too much prevailed in
academical circles was that liberty was regarded with jealousy
and fear, something which could not wholly be dispensed
with, but which was to be continually watched for fear of
excesses.' ^

1 At PalmeratOQ Club, Oxford, Jan. 30, 1878.

TBIBS FOB THE IBELAND SCHOLABSHIP 61

in

In March 1830 Gladstone made the first of two attempts to CHAP,
win the scholarship newly founded by Dean Ireland, and from y ^' ,
the beginning one of the most coveted of university prizes, j^^ 21.
In 1830 (March 16) he wrote: — ' There is it appears smaller
chance than ever of its falling out of the hands of the
Shrewsbury people. There is a very formidable one indeed,
by name Scott, come up from Christ Church. If it is to go
among them I hope he may get it.' This was Robert Scott,
afterwards master of Balliol, and then dean of Rochester,
and the coadjutor with Dean Liddell in the famous Greek
Lexicon brought out in 1843. A year later he tried again,
but little better success came either to himself or to Scott.
He tells his father the story (March 16th, 1831) and collegians
who have fought such battles may care to hear it : —

I must first tell you that I am not the successful candidate, and
after this I shall have nothing to communicate but what will, I
think, give you pleasure. The scholarship has been won by (I
believe) a native of Liverpool.^ His name is Brancker, and he is
now actually at Shrewsbury, but had matriculated here though he
had not come up to reside. This result has excited immense
surprise. For my own part, I went into the examination soldy
depending for any hope of pre-eminence above the Shrewsbury
men on three points, Greek history, one particular kind of Greek
verses, and Greek philosophy. ... It so fell out, however,
that not one of these three points was brought to bear on the
examination, though, indeed, it is but a lame one without them.
Accordingly from the turn it seemed to take as it proceeded, my
own expectations regularly declined, and I thought I might
consider myself very well off if I came in pretty high. As it is,
I am even with the great competitor, Scott, whom everybody
almost thought the favourite candidate, and above the others.
Allies, an Eton man, Scott and I are placed together ; and Short,
one of the examiners, told us this morning that it was an
extremely near thing, and he had great difficulty in making up
his mind, which he never had felt in any former examination in

^ His father was a Liverpool merchant, and had been mayor.

62 OXFORD

which he had been engaged; and indeed he laid the preference
given to Brancker chiefly on his having written short and concise
1^ answers, while ours were longwinded. And in consideration of
its having been so closely contested, the vice-chancellor is to
present each of us with a set of books. . . . Something however
may fairly enough be attributed to the fact that at Eton we were
not educated for such objects as these. . . . The result will affect
the scholarship itself more than any individual character; for
previous events have created, and this has contributed amaz-
ingly to strengthen, a prevalent impression that the Shrewsbury
system is radically a false one, and that its object is not to
educate the mind but merely to cram and stuff it for these
purposes. However, we who are beaten are not fair judges. . . .
I only trust that you will not be more annoyed than I am by
this event.

Brancker was said to have won because he answered all
the questions not only shortly, but most of them right, and
Mr. Gladstone's essay was marked ' desultory beyond belief.*
Below Allies came Sidney Herbert, then at Oriel, and Grove,
afterwards a judge and an important name in the history of
scientific speculation.

He was equally xmsuccessfol in another field of competi-
tion. He sent in a poem on Richard Coeiir de Lion for the
Newdigate prize in 1829. In 1893 somebody asked his leave
to reprint it, and at Mr. Gladstone's request sent him a
copy: —

On perusing it I was very much struck by the contrast it
exhibited between the faculty of versification which (I thought)
was good, and the faculty of poetry, which was very defective.
This faculty of verse had been trained I suppose by verse-making
at Eton, and was based upon the possession of a good or tolerable
ear with which nature had endowed me. I think that a poetical
faculty did develop itself in me a little later, that is to say
between twenty and thirty, due perhaps to having read Dante
with a real devotion and absorption. It was, however, in my
view, true but weak, and has never got beyond that stage. It
was evidently absent from the verses, I will not say the ppem, on

DEBATES AT THE UNION 68

Coeur de Lion; and without hesitation I declined to allow any CHAP.
reprint* ™-

He was active in the debates at the Union, where he made js^,2i.

his first start in the speaking line (Feb. 1830) in a strong

oration much admired by his friends, in favour, — of all the

questionable things in the world, — of the Treason and

Sedition Acts of 1795. He writes home that he did not find

the ordeal so formidable as it used to be before the smaller

audiences at Eton, for at Oxford they sometimes mustered

as many as a hundred or a hundred and fifty. He spoke for

a strongly- worded motion on a happier theme, in favour of

the policy and memory of Canning. In the summer of 1831,

lie mentions a debate in which a motion was proposed in

favour of speedy emancipation of the West Indian slaves.

* I moved an amendment that education of a religious kind

"was the fit object of legislation, which was carried by thirty-

1 By the kindness of the present of Mr. Gladstone's Latin yerse. The
dean of Christ Church I am able to two pieces were written for * Lent
gire the reader a couple of specimens yerses * : —

(180) Gtadstene. An aliquid Ht immutabile f

Affirmatur,

VMmns incertum ? FortunsB lusos habemor ?

Singula prsBteriens det rapiatye dies?
En nemus exanimum, qua »e modo germina, vemo

Tempore, purpureis explicuere comis.
Respico pacatum Neptuni numine pontum :

Territa mox tumido verberat astra salo.
Sed brevior brevibus, quas unda superyeuit, undis

Bed gelid&, quam mox dissipat aura, nive :
Sed fofiis sylvarum, et amici yens odore,

Quisquis honos placeat, quisquis alatur amor.
Janme joci lususque sonant? viget alma Juyentus?

FuneretB forsan eras cecinere tubse.
Nee pietas, nee casta Fides, nee libera Virtus,

Nigrantes vetuit mortis inire domos.
Certa tamen lex ipsa manet, labentibus annis.

Qua; jubet assiduas quseque subire yices.

(1830) Gladstone. An malum a seipso possit aanari f

Affirmatur,

Cemis ut argutas effuderit Anna querelas ?

Lumen ut insolit& triste tumescat aqu& ?
Qnicquid in ardenti flammarum corde rotatur,

Et fronte et rubris pingitur omne genis.
Dum ruit hhc illuc, speculum simulacra mentis,

Ora Mimalloneo plena furore, refert.
Peetora vesano cum turgida conspicit aestu,

Quse fuit (baud quails debeat esse) videt.
Ac yeluti yentis intra sua claustra coactis,

Quom piget JBolium fnena dedisse dncem;
Concita non aliter subsidit pectoris unda,

Et propriA rursum sede potitur Amor,
Jnr&sses torvam perculso astare Medusam

Jurares Paphise lumen adesse de».

64 OXFORD

three to twelve.' Of the most notable of all his successes
at the Union we shall soon hear,
jg^ His little diary, written for no eye bat his own, and in

the use of which I must beware of the sin of violating the
sanctuary, contains in the most concise of daily records all
his various activities, and, at least after the summer at
Cuddesdon, it presents an attractive picture of duty, industry,
and attention, ^constant as the motion of the day.' The
entries are much alike, and a few of them will suffice to
bring his life and him before us. The days for 1830 may
almost be taken at random.

May 10, 1830. — Prospectively, I have the following work to
do in the course of this term. (I mention it now, that this may
at least make me blush if I fail.) Butler's Analogy^ analysis and
synopsis. Herodotus, questions. St. Matthew and St John.
Mathematical lecture. Aeneid. Juvenal and Persius. EthicSy five
books. Prideaux (a part of, for Herodotus). Themistocles Greciae
valedicturus [I suppose a verse composition]. Something in
divinity. Mathematical lecture. Breakfast with Gaskell, who
had the Merton men. Papers. Edinburgh Review on Southey's
Colloquies [Macaulay's]. Ethics, A wretched day. God for-
give idleness. Note to Bible.

May 13. — Wrote to my mother. At debate (Union). Elected
secretary. Papers. British Critic on History of the Jews [by
Newman on Milman]. Herodotus, Ethics, Butler and analysis.
Papers, Virgil, Herodotus. Juvenal. Mathematics and lecture.
Walk with Anstice. Ethics, finished book 4.

May 25, — Finished Porteus's Evidences, Got up a few hard
passages. Analysis of Porteus. Sundry matters in divinity.
Themistocles. Sat with Biscoe talking. Walk with Canning and
Gaskell. Wine and tea. Wrote to Mr. G. [his father]. Papers.

June 13. Sunday. — Chapel morning and evening. Thomas
k Kempis. Erskine's Evidence, Tea with Mayow and Cole.
Walked with Maurice to hear Mr. Porter, a wild but splendid
preacher.

June 14. — Gave a large wine party. Divinity lecture. Mathe-
matics. Wrote three long letters. Herodotus, began book 4.
Prideaux. Newspapers, etc. Thomas a Kempis.

DAILY LIFE 65

June 15. — Another wine party. EthicSy Herodotus. A little
JarenaL Papers. Hallam's poetry. Lecture on Herodotus.
Phillimore got the verse prize. jEt.21.

June 16. — Divinity lecture. Herodotus. Papers. Out at
wine. A little Plato.

June 17. — Ethics and lecture. Herodotus. T. k Kempis.
Wine with Gaskell.

Juike 18. — Breakfast with Gaskell. T. k Kempis. Divinity
lecture. Herodotus. Wrote on Philosophy versus Poetry. A
Utile Persius. Wine with Buller and Tupper.

June 25. — Ethics, Collections 9-3. Among other things
wrote a long paper on religions of Egypt, Persia, Babylon ; and
on the Satirists. Finished packing books and clothes. Left
Oxford between 5-6, and walked fifteen miles towards Leaming-
ton. Then obliged to put in, being caught by a thunderstorm.
Comfortably off in a country inn at Steeple Aston. Eead and
spouted some Prometheus Vinctus there.

JuM 26. — Started before 7. Walked eight miles to Banbury.
Breakfast there, and walked on twenty-two to Leamington.
Arrived at three and changed. Gaskell came in the evening.
Life of Massinger.

July 6. Ctiddesdon. — Up soon after 6. Began my Harmony
of Greek Testament. Differential calculus, etc. Mathematics
good while, but in a rambling way. Began Odyssey. Papers.
Walk with Anstice and Hamilton. Turned a little bit of
Livy into Greek. Conversation on ethics and metaphysics at
night

July 8. — Greek Testament. Bible with Anstice. Mathematics,
long but did little. Translated some Phaedo, Butler. Con-
strued some Thucydides at night. Making hay, etc., with S.,
H., and A. Great fun. Shelley.

July 10, — Greek Testament. Lightfoot. Butler, and writing
a marginal analysis. Old Testament with Anstice and a discus-
sion on early history. Mathematics. Cricket with H. and A.
A conversation of two hours at night with A. on religion till past
11'. Thucydides, etc. I cannot get anything done, though I
.^m to be employed a good while. Short's sermon.
July 11. — Church and Sunday-school teaching, morning and

VOL. I — w

66 OXFORD

eyening. The children miserably deluded. Barrow. Short
Walked with S.

^g^ September 4. — Same as yesterday. Paradise LosL Dined

with the bishop. Cards at night. I like them not, for they ex-
cite and keep me awake. Construing Sophocles.

September 18. — Went down early to Wheatley for letters. It
is indeed true [the death of Huskisson], and he, poor man, was
in his last agonies when I was playing cards on Wednesday
night. When shall we learn wisdom ? Not that I see folly in
the fact of playing cards, but it is too often accompanied by a
dissipated spirit

He did not escape the usual sensations of the desultory
when fate forces them to wear the collar. ' In fact, at times
I find it very irksome, and my having the inclination to
view it in that light is to me the surest demonstration that
my mind was in great want of some discipline, and some
regular exertion, for hitherto I have read by fits and starts
and just as it pleased me. I hope that this vacation [summer
of 1830] will confer on me one benefit more important than
any having reference merely to my class — I mean the habit
of steady application and strict economy of time.'

Among the recorded fragmentary items of 1830, by the
way, he read Mill's celebrated essay on Coleridge, which,
when it was republished a generation later along with the
companion essay on Bentham, made so strong an impression
on the Oxford of my day. He kept up a correspondence
with Hallam, now at Cambridge, and an extract from one
of Hallam's letters may show something of the writer, as of
the friend for whose sympathising mind it was intended : —

Academical honours would be less than nothing to me were it
not for my father's wishes, and even these are moderate on the
subject. If it please God that I make the name I bear honoured
in a second generation, it will be by inward power which is its
own reward; if it please Him not, I hope to go down to the
grave unrepining, for I have lived and loved and been loved ; and
what will be the momentary pangs of an atomic existence when
the scheme of that providential love which pervades, sustains,
quickens this boundless imiverse shall at the last day be unfolded

COBBESPONDENCB WITH HALLAM 67

and adored ? The great truth which, when we are rightly im- CHAP.
pressed with it, will liberate mankind is that no man has a right ^ ^ ^
to isolate himself, because every man is a particle of a maryellous ^^^ 21.
whole; that when he suffers, since it is for the good of that
whole, he, the particle, has no right to complain ; and in the long
ran, that which is the good of all will abundantly manifest itself
to be the good of each. Other belief consists not with theism.
This is its centre. Let me quote to their purpose the words of
my favourite poet ; it will do us good to hear his voice, though

but for a moment : —

* One adequate support
For the calamities of mortal life
Exists — one only : an assured belief
That the procession of our fate, howe'er
Sad or disturbed, is ordered by a Being
Of infinite benevolence and power,
Whose everlasting purposes embrace
All accidents, converting them to good.* ^

Hallam's father, in that memoir so just and tender which
he prefixes to his sou's literary remains, remarks that all
his son's talk about this old desperate riddle of the origin
and significance of evil, like the talk of Leibnitz about it,
resolved itself into an unproved assumption of the necessity
of evil. In truth there is little sign that either Arthur
Hallam or Gladstone had in him the making of the patient
and methodical thinker in the high abstract sphere. They
were both of them cast in another mould. But the eflBcacy
of human relationships springs from a thousand subtler and
more mysterious sources than either patience or method in
our thinking. Such marked efficacy was there in the friend-
ship of these two, both of them living under pure skies, but
one of the pair endowed besides with ' the thews that throw
the world.'

\\Tiether in Gladstone's diary or in his letters, in the
midst of Herodotus and Butler and Aristotle and the rest
of the time-worn sages, we are curiously conscious of the
presence of a spirit of action, affairs, excitement. It is not
the bom scholar eager in search of knowledge for its own
sake ; there is little of Milton's ' quiet air of delightful
1 Excuraiouj Book iv. p. 1.

68 OXFORD

studies ; ' and none of Pascal's ^ labouring for truth with many
a heavy sigh.' The end of it all is, as Aristotle said it should
1830. ^9 ^^^ knowing but doing : — honourable desire of success,
satisfaction of the hopes of friends, a general literary appe-
tite, conscious preparation for private and public duty in
the world, a steady progression out of the shallows into the
depths, a gaze beyond garden and cloister, in (Mffmefi, tn
ptdverem^ in clamarem^ to the dust and burning sun and
shouting of the days of conflict

IV

In September 1829, as we have seen, Huskisson had dis-
appeared. Thomas Gladstone was in the train drawn by
the Dart that ran over the statesman and killed him.

Poor Huskisson, he writes to William Gladstone, the great
promoter of the railroad, has fallen a victim to its opening ! ... As
soon as I heard that Huskisson had been run over, I ran and found
him on the ground close to the duke's [Wellington] car, his legs
apparently both broken (though only one was), the ground covered
with blood, his eyes open, but death written in his face. When they
raised him a little he said, * Leave me, let me die.* * God forgive
me, I am a dead man.' * I can never stand this.' . . . On Tuesday
he made a speech in the Exchange reading room, when he said
he hoped long to represent them. He said, too, that day, that we
were sure of a fine day, for the duke would have his old luck.
Talked jokingly, too, of insuring his life for the ride.

And he notes, as others did, the extraordinary circumstance
that of half a million of people on the line of road the
victim should be the duke's great opponent, thus carried
off suddenly before his eyes.

There was some question of Mr. John Gladstone taking
Huskisson's place as one of the members for Liverpool, but
he did not covet it. He foresaw too many local jealousies,
his deafness would be sadly against him, he was nearly
sixty-five, and he felt himself too old to face the turmoil.
He looked upon the Wellington government as the only
government possible, though as a friend of Canning he
freely recognised its defects, the self-will of the duke, and

THE BEFOBM BILL 69

the parcel of mediocrities and drones with whom, excepting
Peel, he had filled his cabinet. His view of the state of
parties in the autumn of 1830 is clear and succinct enough ^ 21.
to deserve reproduction. ^ Huskisson's death/ he writes to
his son at Christ Church (October 29, 1830), * was a gfreat
gain to the duke, for he was the most formidable thorn to
prick him in the parliament. Of those who acted with
Huskisson, none have knowledge or experience sufficient to
enable them to do so. As for the whigs, they can all talk
and make speeches, but they are not men of business. The
ultra-tories are too contemptible and wanting in talent to
be thought of. The radicals cannot be trusted, for they
would soon pull down the venerable fabric of our constitu-
tion. The liberals or independents must at least generally
side with the duke; they are likely to meet each other
Lalf way.'

In less than a week after this acute survey the duke
made his stalwart declaration in the House of Lords against
all parliamentary reform. * I have not said too much, have
I ? ' he asked of Lord Aberdeen on sitting down. * You'll
hear of it,' was Aberdeen's reply. * You've announced the
fall of your government, that's all,' said another. In a fort-
night (November 18) the duke was out, Lord Grey was in,
and the country was gradually plunged into a determined
struggle for the amendment of its constitution.

Mr. Gladstone, as a resolute Canningite, was as fiercely
hostile to the second and mightier innovation as he had
been eager for the relief of the catholics, and it was in con-
nection with the Reform bill that he first made a public
mark. The reader will recall the stages of that event ; how
the bill was read a second time in the Commons by a
majority of one on March 22nd, 1831 ; how, after a defeat
by a majority of eight on a motion of going into committee.
Lord Grey dissolved ; how the country, shaken to its depths,
gave the reformers such undreamed of strength, that on
July 8th the second reading of the bill was carried by a
hundred and thirty-six; how on October 8th the Lords
rejected it by forty-one, and what violent commotions that
deed provoked ; how a third bill was brought in (December

70 OXFOBD

12th, 1831) and passed through the Commons (March 23rd,
1832); how the Lords were still refractory; what a lacerating
1831. ministerial crisis ensued ; and how at last, in June, the bill,
which was to work the miracle of a millennium, actually
became the law of the land. Not even the pressure of
preparation for the coming ordeal of the examination schools
could restrain the activity and zeal of our Oxonian. Can-
ning had denounced parliamentary reform at Liverpool in
1820; and afterwards had declared in the House of Commons
that if anybody asked him what he meant to do on the
subject, he would oppose reform to the end of his life,
under whatever shape it might appear. Canning's disciple
at Christ Church was as vehement as the master. ^ To a
friend he wrote in 1865 : —

I think that Oxford teaching had in our day an anti-popular
tendency. I must add that it was not owing to the books^ but
rather to the way in which they were handled : and further, that
it tended still more strongly in my opinion to make the love of
truth paramount over all other motives in the mind, and thus
that it supplied an antidote for whatever it had of bane. The
Reform bill frightened me in 1831, and drove me off my natural
and previous bias. Burke and Canning misled many on that
subject, and they misled me.

While staying at Leamington, whither his family con-
stantly went in order to be under the medical care of the
famous Jephson, Mr. Gladstone went to a reform meet-
ing at Warwick, of which he wrote a contemptuous account
in a letter to the Standard (April 7). The gentry present
were few, the nobility none, the clergy one only, while * the
mob beneath the grand stand was Athenian in its levity, in
its recklessness, in its gaping expectancy, in its self-love and
self-conceit — in everything but its acuteness.' 'If, sir, the
nobility, the gentry, the clergy are to be alarmed, overawed,
or smothered by the expression of popular opinion such as

^ It is curious, we may note in later changed his mind and supported

passing, that Thomas Gladstone, his the amendment that destroyed the

eldest brother, was then member for first bill. At the election he lost his

Queenborough, and he, after voting seat,
in the majority of one, a few weeks

OXFORD KLBOnONEBBING 71

thifi, and if no great statesman be raised up in onr hour of CHAP.
need to undeceive this unhappy multitude, now eagerly ^ ™' ^
mshing or heedlessly sauntering along the pathway of j^ 22
revolution, as an ox goeth to the slaughter or a fool to the
correction of the stocks, what is it but a symptom as
infallible as it is appalling, that the day of our greatness
and stability is no more, and that the chill and damp of
death are already creeping over England's glory.' These
dolorous spectres haunted him incessantly, as they haunted
so many who had not the sovereign excuse of youth,
and his rhetoric was perfectly sincere. He felt bound to
say that, as far as he could form an opinion, the ministry
most richly deserved impeachment. Its great innovations
and its small alike moved his indignation. When Brougham
committed the enormity of hearing causes on Good Friday,
Gladstone repeats with deep complacency a saying of
Wetherell, that Brougham was the first judge who had done
SQch a thing since Pontius Pilate.

The undergraduates took their part in the humours of the
great election, and Oxford turned out her chivalry gallantly
to bring in the anti-reform candidate for the county to the
nomination. 'I mounted the mare to join the anti-reform
procession,' writes the impassioned student to liis father,
'and we looked as well as we could do, considering that we
were all covered with mud from head to foot. There was
mob enough on both sides, but I must do them justice to
8ay they were for the most part exceedingly good-humoured,
and after we had dismounted, we went among them and
elbowed one another and bawled and bellowed with the most
perfect good temper. At the nomination in the town hall
there was so much row raised that not one of the candidates
could be heard.' The effect of these exercitations was a
hoarseness and cold, which did not, however, prevent the
sufferer from taking his part in a mighty bonfire in Peck-
water. On another day : —

I went with Denison and another man named Jeffreys between
eleven and twelve. We began to talk to some men among
Weyland's friends; they crowded round, and began to holloa

72 OXFORD

at us, and were making a sort of ring round us preparatory
to a desperate hustle, when lo ! up rushed a body of Norreys'
1831. ™^^ from St. Thomas's, broke their ranks, raised a shout, and
rescued us in great style. I shall ever be giatef ul to the men of
St. Thomas's. When we were talking, Jeffreys said something
which made one man holloa, * Oh, his father's a parson.' This
happened to be true, and flabbergasted me, but he happily turned
it by reminding them that they were going to vote for Afr. Har-
court, son of the greatest parson in England but one (Archbishop
of York). Afterwards they left me, and I pursued my work
alone, conversed with a great number, shook hands with a fair
proportion, made some laugh, and once very nearly got hustled
when alone, but happily escaped. You would be beyond measure
astonished how unanimous and how strong is the feeling among
the freeholders (who may be taken as a fair specimen of the gener-
ality of all counties) agabist the catholic question. Reformers and
anti-reformers were alike sensitive on that point and perfectly
agreed. One man said to me, * What, vote for Lord Norreys ?
Why, he voted against the coimtry both times, for the Catholic
bill and then against the Reform.' What would this atrocious
ministry have said had the appeal to the voice of the people, which
they now quote as their authority, been made in 1829 ? I held
forth to a working man, possibly a forty-shilling freeholder, [he
adds in a fragment of later years,] on the established text, reform
was revolution. To corroborate my doctrine I said, * Why, look
at the revolutions in foreign countries,' meaning of course France
and Belgium. The man looked hard at me and said these very
words, ' Damn all foreign countries, what has old England to do
with foreign countries ? ' This is not the only time that I have
received an important lesson from a humble source.

A more important scene which his own future eminence
made in a sense historic, was a debate at the Union upon
Reform in the same month, where his contribution (May
17th) struck all his hearers with amazement, so brilliant,
so powerful, so incomparably splendid did it seem to their
young eyes. His description of it to his brother (May 20th,
1831) is modest enough : —

I should really have been glad if your health had been such as

SPEECH AT THE UNION 73

to have permitted your visiting Oxford last week, so that you CHAP,
might have heard our debate, for certainly there had never been ^ ^^' ^
anything like it known here before and will scarcely be again. ^^ ^2
The discussion on the question that the ministers were incompetent
to carry on the government of the country was of a miscellaneous
character, and I moved what they called a ' rider ' to the effect
that the Reform bill threatened to change the form of the British
government, and ultimately to break up the whole frame of
society. The debate altogether lasted three nights, and it closed
then, partly because the votes had got tired of dancing attendance,
partly because the speakers of the revolutionary side were ex-
hausted. There were eight or nine more on ours ready, and
indeed anxious. As it was, there were I think fifteen speeches on
odr side and thirteen on theirs, or something of that kind. Every
man spoke above his average, and many very far beyond it. They
were generally short enough. Moncreiff, a long-winded Scotsman,
spouted nearly an hour, and I was guilty of three-quarters. I
remember at Eton (where we used, when I first went into the
society, to speak from three to ten minutes) I thought it must be
ooe of the finest things in the world to speak for three-quarters
of an hour, and there was a legend circulated about an old member
of the society's having done so, which used to make us all gape and
stare. However, I fear it does not necessarily imply much more
than length. Doyle spoke remarkably well, and made a violent
attack on Mr. Canning's friends, which Gaskell did his best to
answer, but very ineffectually from the nature of the case. We got
a conversion speech from a Christ Church gentleman-commoner,
named Alston, which produced an excellent effect, and the division
was favourable beyond anything we had hoped — ninety-four to
thirty-eight. We should have had larger numbers still had we
divided on the first night. Great diligence was used by both parties
in bringing men down, but the tactics on the whole were better on
our side, and we had fewer truants in proportion to our numbers.
England expects every man to do his duty ; and ours, humble as it
is, has been done in reference to this question. On Friday I
wrote a letter to the Standard giving an accoimt of the divi-
sion, which you will see in Saturday's paper, if you think it
worth while to refer to it. The way in which the present

74 OXFOBD

generation of undergraduates is divided on the question is quite
remarkable.

1831. xhe occasion was to prove a memorable one in his career,
and a few more lines about it from his diary will not be con-
sidered superfluous : —

May l^th. — Sleepy. Mathematics, few and shuffling, and
lecture. Bead Canniug's reform speeches at Liverpool and made
extracts. Bode out. Debate, which was adjourned. I am to
try my hand to-morrow. My thoughts were but ill-arranged, but
I fear they will be no better then. Wine with Anstice. Singing.
Tea with Lincoln.

May 11th. — Ethics. Little mathematics. A good deal ex-
hausted in forenoon from heat last night. Dined with White aiftd
had wine with him, also with young Acland. Cogitations on
reform, etc. Difficult to select matter for a speech, not to gather
it. Spoke at the adjourned debate for three^uarters of an hour ;
inmiediately after Gaskell, who was preceded by Lincoln. Bow
afterwards and adjournment. Tea with Wordsworth.

When Gladstone sat down, one of his contemporaries has
written, *we all of us felt that an epoch in our lives had
occurred. His father was so well pleased with the glories of
the speech and with its effect, that he wished to have it
published. Besides his speech, besides the composition of
sturdy placards against the monstrous bill, and besides the
preparation of an elaborate petition ^ and the gathering of
770 signatures to it, the ardent anti-reformer, though the
distance from the days of doom in the examination schools
was rapidly shrinking, actually sat down to write a long
pamphlet (July 1831) and sent it to Hatchard, the publisher.
Hatchard doubted the success of an anonymous pamphlet,
and replied in the too familiar formula that has frozen so
many thousand glowing hearts, that he would publish it if
the author would take the money risk. The most interest-
ing thing about it is the criticism of the writer's shrewd and
wise father upon his son's performance (too long for repro-
duction here). He went with his son in the main, he says,

1 It is given in Robbing, Early Life, pp. 104-6.

HEARS HIS FIBST DEBATE 75

*bat I cannot go all your lengths,' and the language of his CHAP,

judgment sheds a curious light upon the vehement tempera- ^ ^^' ,

ment of Mr. Gladstone at this time as it struck an affec- jet. 22.
tionate yet firm and sober monitor.

In the autumn of 1831 Mr. Gladstone took some trouble
to be present on one of the cai*dinal occasions in this
fluctuating history: —

October Srd to St?L — Journey to London. From Henley in
Blackstone's chaise. Present at five nights' debate of infinite
interest in the House of Lords. The first, I went forwards and
underwent a somewhat high pressure. At the four others sat on
a round transverse rail, very fortunate in being so well placed.
Had a full view of the peeresses. There nine or ten hours every
evening. Read PeePs speech and sundry papers relating to King's
College, which I went to see ; also London Bridge. Read intro-
duction to Butler. Wrote to Saunders. Much occupied in order-
hnnting during the morning. Lord Brougham's as a speech most
wonderful, delivered with a power and effect which cannot be
appreciated by any hearsay mode of information, and with fertile
exuberance in sarcasm. In point of argument it had, I think,
little that was new. Lord Grey's most beautiful, Lord Goderich's
and Lord Lansdowne's extremely good, and in these was compre-
hended nearly all the oratorical merit of the debate. The reason-
ing or the attempt to reason, independently of the success in such
attempt, certainly seemed to me to be with the opposition. Their
best speeches, I thought, were those of Lords Harrowby, Car-
narvon, Mansfield, Wynford ; next Lords Lyndhurst, Wharncliffe,
and the Duke of Wellington. Lord Grey's reply I did not hear,
having been compelled by exhaustion to leave the House. Re-
mained with Ryder and Pickering in the coffee-room or walking
about until the division, and joined Wellesley and [illegible] as we
walked home. Went to bed for an hour, breakfasted, and came
off by the Alert. Arrived safely, thank God, in Oxford. Wrote
to my brother and to Gaskell. Tea with Phillimore and spent
the remainder of the evening with Canning. The consequences of
the vote may be awful. God avert this. But it was an honour-
able and manly decision, and so may God avert them.

76 OXFORD

This was the memorable occasion when the Lords threw
out the Reform bill by 199 to 158, the division not taking
1^1. pl<^<^ until six o'clock in the morning. The consequences,
as the country instantly made manifest, were ^ awful ' enough
to secure the reversal of the decision. It seems, so far as I
can make out, to have been the first debate that one of the
most consummate debaters that ever lived had the fortune
of listening to.

V

Meanwhile intense interest in parliament and the news^
papers had not impaired his studies. Disgusted as he
was at the political outlook, in the beginning of July he
had fallen fairly to work more or less close for ten or
twelve hours a day. It ^proved as of old a cure for ill-
humour, though in itself not of the most delectable kind.
It is odd enough, though true, that reading hard close-
grained stuff produces a much more decided and better
effect in this way, than books written professedly for the
purpose of entertainment.' Then his eyes became painful,
affected the head, and in August almost brought him
to a full stop. After absolute remission of work for a few
days, he slowly spread full sail again, and took good care
no more to stint either exercise or sleep, thinking him-
self, strange as it now sounds, rather below than above
par for such exertions. He declared that the bodily
fatigue, the mental fatigue, and the anxiety as to the
result, made reading for a class a thing not to be under-
gone more than once in a lifetime. Time had mightier
fatigues in store for him than even this. The heavy work
among the ideas of men of bygone days did not deaden
intellectual projects of his own. A few days before he went
to see the Lords throw out the Reform bill, he made a
curious entry: —

October 3rd, 1831. — Yesterday an idea, a chimera, entered my
head, of gathering during the progress of my life, notes and
materials for a work embracing three divisions, Morals, Politics,
Education, and I commit this notice to paper now, that many years
hence, if it please God, I may find it either a pleasant or at least

BEADING FOB THE SCHOOLS 77

an instructiye reminiscence, a pleasant and instructing one, I trust, CHAP.
if I may ever be permitted to execute this design ; instructive if it ^ ^^' j
shall point while in embryo, and serve to teach me the folly of j^^ 22
presumptuous schemes conceived during the buoyancy of youth,
and only relinquished on a discovery of incompetency in later
years. Meanwhile I am only contemplating the gradual accumu-
lation of materials.

The reading went on at a steady pace, not without social
mtermissions : —

Oct.llthandl2tJL—B^e. Papers. Virgil. Thucydides, both
days. Also some optics. Wrote a long letter home. Bead a
chapter of Butler each day. Hume. Breakfasted also with
Canning to meet Lady C[anning]. She received us, I thought,
with great kindness, and spoke a great deal about Lord Grey's
conduct with reference to her husband's memory, with great
animation and excitement ; her hand in a strong tremor. It was
impossible not to enter into her feelings.

Then comes the struggle for the palm : —

Monday, Novernber 1th to Saturday 12th. — In the schools or
preparing. Read most of Niebuhr. Finished going over the
Agamemnon. Got up Aristophanic and other hard words. Went
over my books of extracts, etc. Bead some of Whately's rhetoric.
Got up a little Polybius, and the history out of Livy, decade
one. In the schools Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday ; each day
about six and a half hours at work or under. First Strafford's
speech into Latin with logical and rhetorical questions — the
latter somewhat abstract. Dined at Gaskell's and met Pearson,
a clever and agreeable man. On Thursday a piece of Johnson's
preface in morning, in evening critical questions which I did very
badly, but I afterwards heard, better than the rest, which I could
not and cannot understand. Ou Friday we had in the morning
historical questions. Wrote avast quantity of matter, ill enough
digested. In the evening, Greek to translate and illustrate.
Heard cheering accounts indirectly of myself, for which I ought
to be very thankful. . . . Dined with Pearson at the Mitre.
Very kind in him to ask me. Made Saturday in great measure
an idle day. Had a good ride with Gaskell. Spent part of the

78 OXFORD

evening with him. Bead about six hours. Sunday^ November
13th. — Chapel thrice. Breakfast and much conversation with
1881. Cameron. Read Bible. Some divinity of a character approach-
ing to cram. Looked over my shorter abstract of Butler. Tea
with Harrison. Walk with GaskelL Wine with Hamilton, more
of a party than I quite liked or expected. Altogether my mind
was in an unsatisfactory state, though I heard a most admirable
sermon from Tyler on Bethesda, which could not have been
more opportune if written on purpose for those who are going
into the schools. But I am cold, timid, and worldly, and not
in a healthy state of mind for the great trial of to-morrow, to
which I know I am utterly and miserably unequal, but which
I also know will be sealed for good. . . .

Here is his picture of his viva voce examination : —

November l^th, — Spent the morning chiefly in looking over my
Polybius; short abstract of ethics, and definitions. Also some
hard words. Went into the schools at ten, and from this time
was little troubled with fear. Examined by Stocker in divinity.
I did not answer as I could have wished. Hampden [the famous
heresiarch] in science, a beautiful examination, and with every
circumstance in my favour. He said to me, * Thank you, you
have construed extremely well, and appear to be thoroughly
acquainted with your books,' or something to that effect. Then
followed a very clever examination in history from Garbett, and
an agreeable and short one in my poets from Cremer, who spoke
very kindly to me at the close. I was only put on in eight
books besides the Testament, namely Rhetoric, Ethics, Phoedo,
Herodotus, Thucydides, Odyssey, Aristophanes (Vespae), and
Persius. Everything was in my favour; the examiners kind
beyond everything ; a good many persons there, and all friendly.
At the end of the science, of course, my spirits were much raised,
and I could not help at that moment [giving thanks] to Him
without whom not even such moderate performances would have
been in my power. Afterwards rode to Cuddesdon with the
Denisons, and wrote home with exquisite pleasure.

I have read a story by some contemporary how all
attempts to puzzle him by questions on the minutest details

HIS DOUBLE FIRST GLASS 79

of Herodotus only brought out his knowledge more fully ;
how the excitement reached its climax when the examiner,
aft^r testing his mastery of some point of theology, said: 'We j^^^^l
will now leave that part of the subject,' and the candidate,
carried away by his interest in the subject, answered : ' No,
sir ; if you please, we will not leave it yet,' and began to pour
forth a fresh stream. Ten days later, after a morning much
disturbed and excited he rode in the afternoon, and by half-
past four the list was out, with Gladstone and Denison both
of them in the first class; Phillimore and Maurice in the
second; Herbert in the fourth.

Then mathematics were to come. The interval between
the two schools he passed at Cuddesdon, working some ten
hours a day at his hardest, riding every day with Denison,
and all of them in high spirits. But optics, algebra, geo-
metry, calculus, trigonometry, and the rest, filled him with
misgivings for the future. * Every day I read, I am more
and more thoroughly convinced of my incapacity for the
subject.' * My work continued and my reluctance to
exertion increased with it.' For the Sunday before the
examination, this is the entry, and a characteristic and
remarkable one it is : — ' Teaching in the school morning
and evening. Saunders preached well on '' Ye cannot serve
God and Mammon." Read Bible and four of Horsley's
sermons. Paid visits to old people.'

On December 10th the mathematical ordeal began, and
Listed four days. The doctor gave him draughts to quiet
his excitement. Better than draughts, he read Wordsworth
every day. On Sunday (December 11th) he went, as usual,
twice to chapel, and heard Newman preach 'a most able
discourse of a very philosophical character, more apt for
reading than for hearing — at least I, in the jaded state of
my mind, was unable to do it any justice.' On December
14th, the list was out, and his name was again in the first
class, again along with Denison. As everybody knows. Peel
had won a double-first twenty-three years before, and in
mathematics Peel had the first class to himself. Mr. Glad-
stone in each of the two schools was one of five. Anstice,
whose counsels and example he counted for so much at one

80 OXFOBD

BOOK epoch in his collegiate life, in 1830 carried off the same
, ^' J double crown, and was, like Peel, alone in the mathematical
1831. ^^^^ class.

It was an hour of thrilling happiness, between the past and
the future, for the future was, I hope, not excluded ; and feeling
was well kept in check by the bustle of preparation for speedy
departure. Saw the Dean, Biscoe, Saunders (whom I thanked
for his extreme kindness), and such of my friends as were in
Oxford; all most warm. The mutual hand-shaking between
Denison, Jeffreys, and myself, was very hearty. Wine with
Bruce. . . . Packed up my things. . . . Wrote at more or less
length to Mrs. G. [his mother], Gaskell, Phillimore, Mr. Denison,
my old tutor Knapp. . . . Left Oxford on the Champion.

December 15th, — After finding the first practicable coach to
Cambridge was just able to manage breakfast in Bedford Square.
Left Holborn at ten, in Cambridge before five.

Here he was received by Wordsworth, the master of
Trinity, and father of his Oxford tutor. He had a visit
full of the peculiar excitement and felicity that those who
are capable of it know nowhere else than at Oxford and
Cambridge. He heard Hallam recite his declamation ; was
introduced to the mighty Whewell, to Spedding, the great
Baconian, to Smyth, the professor of history, to Blakesley ;
renewed his acquaintance with the elder Hallam; listened
to glorious anthems at Trinity and King's ; tried to hear a
sermon from Simeon, the head of the English evangelicals ;
met Stanhope, an old Eton man, and the two sons of Lord
Grey; and 'copied a letter of Mr. Pitt's.' From Cambridge
he made his way home, having thus triumphantly achieved
the first stage of his long life journey. Amid the manifold
mutations of his career, to Oxford his affection was pas-
sionate as it was constant. 'There is not a man that has
passed through that great and famous university that can
say with more truth than I can say, I love her from the
bottom of my heart.' ^

1 Oxford, Feb. 5, 1890.

/

THOUGHTS ON FUTUBB PBOFBS8ION 81

VI

Another episode must have a place before I close this chap.
chapter. At the end of 1828, the youthful Gladstone had ^ ^"' ,
composed a long letter, of which the manuscript survives, to ^^ 22
a Liverpool newspaper, earnestly contesting its appalling
proposition that 'man has no more control over his belief,
than he has over his stature or his colour,' and beseeching
the editor to try Leslie's Short Method with the Deists^
if he be unfortunate enough to doubt the authority of
the Bible. At Oxford his fervour carried him beyond the
fluent tract to a pei-sonal decision. On August 4th, 1830,
the entry is this : — * Began Thucydides. Also working up
Herodotus, i^fyrv/ievo^. Construing Thucydides at night.
Uncomfortable again and much distracted with doubts as to
my future line of conduct. God direct me. I am utterly
Uind. Wrote a very long letter to my dear father on the
subject of my future profession, wishing if possible to bring
the question to an immediate and final settlement.' The
letter is exorbitant in length, it is vague, it is obscure ; but
the appeal contained in it is as earnest as any appeal from
son to parent on such a subject ever was, and it is of special
interest as the first definite indication alike of the extra-
ordinary intensity of his religious disposition, and of that
double-mindedness, that division of sensibility between the
demands of spiritual and of secular life, which remained
throughout one of the marking traits of his career. He
declares his conviction that his duty, alike to man as a
social being, and as a rational and reasonable being to God,
summons him with a voice too imperative to be resisted,
to forsake the ordinary callings of the world and to take
up>on himself the clerical office. The special need of devo-
tion to that oflBce, he argues, must be plain to any one who
* casts his eye over the moral wilderness of the world, who
contemplates the pursuits, desires, designs, and principles
of the beings that move so busily in it to and fro, without
an object beyond the finding food for it, mental or bodily,
for the present moment.' This letter the reader will find in

VOL. I — a

82 OXFORD

full elsewhere.^ The missionary impulse, the yearning for
some apostolic destination, the glow of self-devotion to a
1831. supreme external will, is a well-known element in the youth
of ardent natures of either sex. In a thousand forms, some-
times for good, sometimes for evil, such a mood has played
its part in history. In this case, as in many another, the
impulse in its first shape did not endure, but in essence it
never faded.

His father replied as a wise man was sure to do, almost
with sympathy, with entire patience, and with thorough
common sense. The son dutifully accepts the admonition
that it is too early to decide so grave an issue, and that the
immediate matter is the approaching performance in the
examination schools. 'I highly approve,' his father had
written (Nov. 8th, 1830), 'your proposal to leave undeteiv
mined the profession you are to follow, until you return
from the continent and complete your education in all
respects. You will then have seen more of the world
and have greater confidence in the choice you may make;
for it will then rest wholly with yourself, having our
advice whenever you may wish for it.' The critical issue
was now finally settled. At almost equal length, and in
parts of this second letter no less vague and obscure than
the first, but with more concentrated power, Mr. Glad-
stone tells his father (Jan. 17th, 1832) how the excite-
ment has subsided, but still he sees at hand a great crisis
in the history of mankind. New principles, he says, prevail
in morals, politics, education. Enlightened self-interest is
made the substitute for the old bonds of unreasoned attach-
ment, and under the plausible maxim that knowledge is
power, one kind of ignorance is made to take the place of
another kind. Christianity teaches that the head is to
be exalted through the heart, but Benthamism maintains
that the heart is to be amended through the head. The
conflict proceeding in parliament foreshadows a contest for
the existence of the church establishment, to be assailed
through its property. The whole foundation of society may
go. Under circumstances so formidable, he dares not look

1 See Appendix.

ON FUTUBB PBOFESSION 83

for the comparative calm and ease of a professional life. He chap.
most hold himself free of attachment to any single post and , ^^^' ^
fonction of a technical nature. And so — to make the long ^^ 22
story short — *My own desires for future life are exactly
coincident with yours, in so far as I am acquainted with
them ; believing them to be a profession of the law, with a
view substantially to studying the constitutional branch of
it, and a subsequent experiment, as time and circumstances
might offer, on what is termed public life.' * It tortures me,'
be had written to his brother John (August 29th, 1830), *to
thiok of an inclination opposed to that of my beloved
father,' and this was evidently one of the preponderant
motives in his final decision.

In the same letter, while the fire of apostolic devotion
was still fervid within him, he had penned a couple of
sentences that contain words of deeper meaning than
he could surely know : — * I am willing to persuade mjrself
that in spite of other longings which I often feel, my heart
b prepared to yield other hopes and other desires for this —
of being permitted to be the humblest of those who may be
commissioned to set before the eyes of man, still great even
in his ruins, the magnificence and the glory of Christian
truth. Especially as I feel that my temperament is so
excitable, that I should fear giving up my mind to other
subjects which have ever proved sufficiently alluring to me,
and which I fear would make my life a fever of unsatisfied
longings and expectations.' So men unconsciously often
hiut an oracle of their lives. Perhaps these forebodings of
a high-wrought hour may in other hues have at many
moments come back to Mr. Gladstone's mind, even in the
fall sunshine of a triumphant career of duty, virtue, power,
and renown.

The entry in his diary, suggested by the return of his
birthday (Dec. 29, 1831), closes with the words, 'This has
been my debating society year, now, I fancy, done with.
Politics are fascinating to me ; perhaps too fascinating.'
Higher thoughts than this press in upon him : —

Industry of a kind and for a time there has been, but the
industry of necessity, not of principle. I would fain believe that

84 OXFORD

my sentiinentB in religion have been somewhat enlarged and
untrammelled, but if this be tme, my responsibility is indeed
2^2. augmented, but wherein have my deeds of duty been proportion-
ally modified ? . . . One conclusion theoretically has been much
on my mind — it is the increased importance and necessity and
benefit of prayer — of the life of obedience and self-sacrifice. May
Grod use me as a vessel for his own purposes, of whatever char-
acter and results in relation to myself. . . . May the God who
loves us all, still vouchsafe me a testimony of His abiding presence
in the protracted, though well nigh dormant life of a desire which
at times has risen high in my soul, a fervent and a buoyant hope
that I might work an energetic work in this world, and by that
work (whereof the worker is only God) I might grow into the
image of the Redeemer. ... It matters not whether the spheie
of duty be large or small, but may it be duly filled. May those
faint and languishing embers be kindled by the truth of the
everlasting spirit into a living and a life-giving flame.

Every reader will remember how, just two hundred years
before, the sublimest of English poets had on his twenty-
third birthday closed the same self-reproach for sluggishness
of inward life, with the same aspiration : —

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

It shall be still in strictest measure even

To that same lot however mean or high,

Towards which time leads me and the will of heaven.

All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great taskmaster's eye.

Two generations after he had quitted the university, Mr.
Gladstone summed up her influence upon him : —

Oxford had rather tended to hide from me the great fact that
liberty is a great and precious gift of God, and that human
excellence cannot grow up in a nation without it. And yet I do
not hesitate to say that Oxford had even at this time laid the f
foundations of my liberalism. School pursuits had revealed L
little ; but in the region of philosophy she had initiated if not *
inured me to the pursuit of truth as an end of study. The splendid
integrity of Aristotle, and still more of Butler, conferred upon
me an inestimable service. Elsewhere I have not scrupled t(^

MEDITATIONS 85

peak with severity of myself, but I declare that while in the
rms of Oxford, I was possessed through and through with a
ingle-minded and passionate love of truth, with a virgin love jet.'22.
f truth, so that, although I might be swathed in clouds of
prejudice there was something of an eye within^ that might
;raduaLl7 pierce them.

18S2-1846
CHAPTER I

ENTERS PARLIAMENT

{1832-1834)

I MAT speak of the House of Commons as a school of dincipHne lor
those who enter it. In my opinion it is a school of eztraoidinary
power and efficacy. It is a great and noble school for the creation
of all the qualities of force, suppleness, and versatility of intellect
And it is also a great moral school. It is a school of temper. It is
also a school of patience. It is a school of honour, and it Is a ■chool
of justice. — Gladstone (1878).

Leaving home in the latter part of Janxiarj (1882), wit
a Wordsworth for a pocket companion, Mr. Gladstone mad
1832. ^^® ^^^y ^^ Oxford, where he laboured through his packinj
settled accounts, 'heard a very able sermon indeed froi
Newman at St. Mary's,' took his bachelor's degree (Jan. 26
and after a day or two with relatives and friends in Londoi
left England along with his brother John at the beginnin
of February. He did not return until the end of July. ¥.
visited Brussels, Paris, Florence, Naples, Rome, Venice, ar
Milan. Of this long journey he kept a full record, and
contains one entry of no small moment in his mental histor
A conception now began to possess him, that according
one religious school kindled a saving illumination, an
according to another threw something of a shade upon Li
future path. In either view it marked a change of spiritua
course, a transformation not of religion as the centre of hi
being, for that it always was, but of the frame and moul
within which religion was to expand.

fl'mUk^r&CMAtr^ oA h

FOREIGN TRAVEL 87

In entering St. Peter's at Rome (March 81, 1832) he ex-
perienced his * first conception of unity in the Church,' and
first longed for its visible attainment. Here he felt *the ^®x|23.
pain and shame of the schism which separates us from
Rome — whose guilt surely rests not upon the venerable
fathers of the English Reformed Church but upon Rome
itself, yet whose melancholy effects the mind is doomed to
feel when you enter this magnificent temple and behold in
its walls the images of Christian saints and the words of
everlasting truth ; yet such is the mass of intervening
encumbrances that you scarcely own, and can yet more
scantily realise, any bond of sympathy or union.' This was
no fleeting impression of a traveller. It had been preceded
by a disenchantment, for he had made his way from Turin
to Pinerol, and seen one of the Vaudois valleys. He had
framed a lofty conception of the people as ideal Christians,
and he und^Vvent a chill of disappointment on finding them
apparently much like other men. Even the pastor, though
a quiet, inoffensive man, gave no sign of energy or of what
would have been called in England vital religion. With this
chill at his heart he came upon the atmosphei*e of gorgeous
Rome. It was, however, in the words of Clough's fine line
from Easter Day^ ' through the great sinful streets of Naples
as he passed,' that a great mutation overtook him.

One Sunday (May 13) something, I know not what, set me on
examining the occasional offices of the church in the prayer book.
They made a strong impression upon me on that very day, and
the impression has never been effaced. I had previously taken
a great deal of teaching direct from the Bible, as best I could,
but now the figure of the Church arose before me as a teacher too,
ami I gradually found in how incomplete and fragmentary a
iiianner I had drawn divine truth from the sacred volume, as
indeed I had also missed in the thirty-nine articles some things
which ought to have taught me better. Such, for I believe that
I have given the fact as it occurred, in its silence and its solitude,
was my first introduction to the august conception of the Church
of Christ. It presented to me Christianity under an aspect in
which I had not yet known it: its ministry of symbols, its

88 ENTERS PARLIAMENT

channels of grace^ its unending line of teachers joining from the
Head: a sublime construction, based throughout upon historic
1832. ^^^> uplifting the idea of the community in which we live, and of
the access which it enjoys through the new and living way to the
presence of the Most High. From this time I began to feel my way
by degrees into or towards a true notion of the Church. It became
a definite and organised idea when, at the suggestion of James
Hope, I read the just published and remarkable work of Palmer.
But the charm of freshness lay upon that first disclosure of 1832.

This mighty question : — what is the nature of a church and
what the duties, titles, and symbols of faithful membership,
which in divers forms had shaken the world for so many
ages and now first dawned upon his ardent mind, was the
germ of a deep and lasting pre-occupation of which we
shall speedily and without cessation find abundant traces.

u

A few weeks later, the great rival interest in Mr. Gladstone's
life, if rival we may call it, was forced into startling pro-
minence before him. At Milan he received a letter from
Lord Lincoln, saying that he was commissioned by his
father, the Duke of Newcastle, to inform him that his
influence in the borough of Newark was at Mr. Gladstone's
disposal if he should be ready to enter parliamentary life-
This was the fruit of his famous anti-reform speech at the
Oxford Union. No wonder that such an offer made him
giddy. ' This stunning and overpowering proposal,' he says to
his father (July 8), ' naturally left me the whole of the evening
on which I received it, in a flutter of confusion. Since that
evening there has been time to reflect, and to see that it
is not of so intoxicating a character as it seemed at first.
First, because the Duke of Newcastle's offer must have been
made at the instance of a single person (Lincoln), that person
young and sanguine, and I may say in such a matter partial.
. . . This much at least became clear to me by the time
I had recovered my breath: that decidedly more than mere
permission from my dear father would be necessary to
authorise my entering on the consideration of particulai*s

OFFER OF A SEAT 89

at all/ And then he falls into a vein of devout reflection,
almost as if this sudden destination of his life were some
irrevocable priesthood or vow of monastic profession, and not
the mere stringent secularity of labour in a parliament. It
would be thin and narrow to count all this an overstrain.
To a nature like his, of such eager strength of equipment ;
conscious of life as a battle and not a parade; apt for all
external action yet with a burning glow of light and fire in
the internal spirit ; resolute from the first in ,small things
and in great against aimless drift and eddy, — to such an
one the moment of fixing alike the goal and the track may
well have been grave.

Then points of doubt arose. * It is, I daresay, in your
recollection,' — this to liis father, — * that at the time when
Mr. Canning came to power, the Duke of Newcastle, in
the House of Lords, declared him the most profligate
minister the country had ever had. Now it struck me to
inquire of myself, does the duke know the feelings I happen
to entertain towards Mr. Canning ? Does he know, or can
he have had in his mind, my father's connection with
Mr. Canning?' The duke had in fact been one of the
busiest and bitterest of Canning's enemies, and had after-
wards in the same spirit striven with might and main to
keep Huskisson out of the Wellington cabinet. Another
awkwardness appeared. The duke had offered a handsome
contribution towards expenses. Would not this tend to
abridge the member's independence ? What was the footing
on which patron and member were to stand? Mr. Gladstone
was informed by his brother that the duke had neither
heretofore asked for pledges, nor now demanded them.

After a very brief correspondence with his shrewd and
generous father, the plunge was taken, and on his return
to England, after a fortnight spent 'in an amphibious state
between that of a candidate and lSia>Tr)<; or private person,'
he issued his address to the electors of Newark (August 4,
1832). He did not go actually on to the ground until the
end of September. The intervening weeks he spent with
his family at Torquay, where he varied electioneering corre-
spondence and yachting with plenty of suflBciently serious

90 EN TEES PARLIAMENT

reading from Blackstone and Plato and the Excursion down
to Corinne. One Sunday morning (September 23), his father
1832. burst into his bedroom, with the news that his presence was
urgently needed at Newark. *I rose, dressed, and break-
fasted speedily, with infinite disgust. I left Torquay at 8|
and devoted my Sunday to the journey. Was 1 right? . . .
My father drove me to Newton; chaise to Exeter. There
near an hour; went to the cathedral and heard a part of
the prayers. Mail to London. Conversation with a tory
countryman who got in for a few miles, on Sunday travelling,
which we agreed in disapproving. Gave him some tracts.
Excellent mail. Dined at Yeovil; read a little of the
Christian Year [published 1827]. At 6 J a.m. arrived at
Piccadilly, ISj^ hours from Exeter. Went to Fetter Lane,
washed and breakfasted, and came off at 8 o'clock by a
High Flyer for Newark. The sun hovered red and cold
through the heavy fog of London sky, but in the country
the day was fine. Tea at Stamford ; arrived at Newark at
midnight.' Such in forty hours was the first of Mr. Glad-
stone's countless political pilgrimages.

His two election addresses are a curious starting-point
for so memorable a journey. Thrown into the form of a
modern programme, the points are these: — union of church
and state, the defence in particular of our Irish establish-
ments; correction of the poor laws; allotment of cottage
grounds; adequate remuneration of labour; a system of
Christian instruction for the West Indian slaves, but no
emancipation until that instruction had fitted them for it;
a dignified and impartial foreign policy. The duke was
much startled by the passage about labour receiving adequate
remuneration, 'which unhappily among several classes of
our fellow countrymen is not now the case.' He did not,
however, interfere. The whig newspaper said roundly of
the first of Mr. Gladstone's two addresses, that a more
jumbled collection of words had seldom been sent from the
press. The tory paper, on the contrary, congratulated the
constituency on a candidate of considerable commercial
experience and talent. The anti-slavery men fought him
stoutly. They put his name into their black schedule with

ISSUES ADDBBSS AT NEWARK 91

nine-and-twenty other candidates, they harried him with
posera from a pamphlet of his father's, and they met his
doctrine that if slavery were sinful the Bible would not jet!28.
haTe commended the regulation of it, by bluntly asking
him on the hustings whether he knew a text in Exodus
declaring that ^he that stealeth a man and selleth him, or
if he be found in his hand, he shall fiurely be put to death.'
His father's pamphlets undoubtedly exposed a good deal
of surface. We cannot be surprised that any adherent of
these standard sophistries should be placed on the black
list of the zealous soldiers of humanity. The candidate
held to the ground he had taken at Oxford and in his
election address, and apparently made converts. He had an
interview with forty voters of abolitionist complexion at his
hotel, and according to the fiiendly narrative of his brother,
who was present, ' he shone not only in his powers of con-
versation, but by the tact, quickness, and talent with which
he made his replies, to the thorough and complete satisfaction
of baptists, wesleyan methodists, and I may say even, of
almost every religious sect ! Not one refused their vote :
thej came forward, and enrolled their names, though before,
I believe, they never supported any one on the duke's
interest I '

The humours of an election of the ancient sort are a very
old story, and Newark had its full share of them. The register
contiiined rather under sixteen hundred voters on a scot and
lot qualification, to elect a couple of members. The principal
influence over about one quarter of them was exercised by
the Duke of Newcastle, who three years before had punished
the whigs of the borough for the outrage of voting against
his nominee, by serving, in concert with another proprietor,
forty of them with notice to quit. Then the trodden worm
turned. The notices were framed, afiBxed to poles, and
carried with bands of music through the streets. Even the
audacity of a petition to parliament was projected. The
duke, whose chief fault was not to know that time had
brought him into a novel age, defended himself with the
haughty truism, then just ceasing to be true, that he had
a right to do as he liked with his own. This clear-cut enun-

92 BNTERS PARLIAMENT

elation of a yanishing principle became a sort of landmark,
and gave to his name an unpleasing immortality in our
1882. political history. In the high tide of agitation for reform
the whigs gave the duke a beating, and brought their man
to the top of the poll, a tory being his colleague. Handley,
the tory, on our present occasion seemed safe, and the fight lay
between Mr. Gladstone and Sergeant Wilde, the sitting whig,
a lawyer of merit and eminence, who eighteen years later
went to the woolsack as Lord Truro. Reform at Newark
was already on the ebb. Mr. Gladstone, though mocked as
a mere schoolboy, and fiercely assailed as a slavery man,
exhibited from the first hour of the fight tremendous gifts of
speech and skill of fence. His Red club worked valiantly;
the sergeant did not play his cards skilfully ; and pretty early
in the long struggle it was felt that the duke would this
time come into his own again. The young student soon
showed that his double first class, his love of books, his
religious preoccupations, had not unfitted him by a single
jot for one of the most arduous of all forms of the battle of
life. He proved a diligent and prepossessing canvasser, an
untiring combatant, and of coui'se the readiest and most
fluent of speakers. Wilde after hearing him said senten-
tiously to one of his own supporters, * There is a great future
before this young man.' The rather rotten borough became
suffused with the mdiant atmosphere of Olympus. The
ladies presented their hero with a banner of red silk, and an
address expressive of their conviction that the good old Red
cause was the salvation of their ancient borough. The young
candidate in reply speedily put it in far more glowing colours.
It was no trivial banner of a party club, it was the red
flag of England that he saw before him, the symbol of
national moderation and national power, under which, when
every throne on the continent had crumbled into dust beneath
the tyrannous strength of France, mankind had found sure
refuge and triumphant hope, and the blast that tore every
other ensign to tatters served only to unfold their own
and display its beauty and its glory. Amid these oratorical
splendours the old hands of the club silently supplemented
eloquence and argument by darker agencies, of which happily

HUMOURS OF AN OLD ELECTION 98

the candidate knew little until after. There was a red band
and each musician received fifteen shillings a day, there
happening accidentally to be among them no fewer than ten j^^2d
patriotic red plumpers. Large tea-parties attracted red ladies.
The inns g^reat and small were thrown joyously open on one
side or other, and when the time came, our national heroes
from Robin Hood to Lord Nelson and the Duke of Well-
ington, as well as half the animal kingdom, the swan and
salmon, horses, bulls, boars, lions, and eagles, of all the
colours of the rainbow and in every kind of strange partner-
ship, sent in biUs for meat and liquor supplied to free and
independent electors to the tune of a couple of thousand
pounds. Apart from these black arts, and apart from the
duke's interest, there was a good force of the staunch and
honest type, the life-blood of electioneering and the salvation
of party government, who cried stoutly, * I was bom Red,
I live Red, and I will die Red.' * We started on the canvass,'
says one who was with Mr. Gladstone, ^at eight in the
morning and worked at it for about nine hours, with a great
crowd, band and flags, and innumerable glasses of beer and
wine all jumbled together ; then a dinner of 30 or 40, with
speeches and songs until say ten o'clock; then he always
played a rubber of whist, and about twelve or one I got
to bed and not to sleep.'

At length the end came. At the nomination the show of
hands was against the reds, but when the poll was taken and
closed on the second day, Gladstone appeared at the head of
it with 887 votes, against 798 for his colleague Handley, and
726 for the fallen Wilde. ' Yesterday' (Dec. 13, 1832), he
tells his father, *we went to the town hall at 9 a.m., when
the mayor cast up the numbers and declared the poll.
While he was doing this the popular wrath vented itself for
the most part upon Handley. . . . The sergeant obtained me
a hearing, and I spoke for perhaps an hour or more, but it
was flat work, as they were no more than patient, and agreed
with but little that I said. The sergeant then spoke for
an hour and a half. ... He went into matters connected
with his own adieu to Newark, besought the people most
energetically to bear with their disappointment like men.

94 ENTEBS PABUAMBNT

BOOK and expressed his farewell with great depth of feeling.

, • y Affected to tears himself, he affected others also. In the

1832. evening near fifty dined here [Clinton Arms] and the

utmost enthusiasm was manifested/ The new member

began his first speech as a member of parliament as

follows : —

Gentlemen: In looking forwaid to the field which is now
opened before me, I cannot but conceive that I shall often be
reproached with being not your representative but the repre-
sentative of the Duke of Newcastle. Now I should rather
incline to exaggerate than to extenuate such connection as does
exist between me and that nobleman : and for my part should have
no reluctance to see every sentiment which ever passed between us,
whether by letter or by word of mouth, exposed to the view of the
world. I met the Duke of Newcastle upon the broad ground of
public principle, and upon that ground alone. I own no other
bond of imion with him than this, that he in his exalted sphere,
and I in my humble one, entertained the same persuasion, that the
institutions of this country are to be defended against those who
threaten their destruction, at all hazards, and to all extremities.
Why do you return me to parliament ? Not because I am the
Duke of Newcastle's man, simply : but because, coinciding with
the duke in political sentiment, you likewise admit that one
possessing so large a property here, and faithfully discharging the
duties which the possession of that property entails, ought in the
natural course of things to exercise a certain influence. You return
me to parliament, not merely because I am the Duke of Newcastle's
man : but because both the man whom the duke has sent, and the
duke himself, are your men.

The election was of course pointed to by rejoicing con-
servatives as a proof the more of that reaction which the
ministerial and radical press was audacious enough to laugh
at. This borough, says the local journalist, was led away
by the bubble reform, to support those who by specious
and showy qualification had dazzled their eyes ; delusion had
vanished, shadows satisfied no longer, Newark was restored
to its high place in the esteem of the friends of order and
good government. Of course the intimates of the days of

BETUBNED FOB NEWABK 96

bis yonth were delighted. We want such a man as

Gladstone, wrote Hallam to Gaskell (October 1, 1882); *in

some things he is likely to be obstinate and prejudiced ; but j^^S

be has a fine fund of high chivalrous tory sentiment, and

a tongue, moreover, to let it loose with. I think he may do

a great deal.'

In the course of his three months of sojourn at Newark
Mr. Gladstone paid his first visit to the great man at Clumber.

The duke received me, he tells his father, with the greatest
kindness, and conversed with such ease and familiarity of manner
as speedily to dispel a certain degree of awe which I had previously
entertained, and to throw me perhaps more off my guard than
I ought to have been in company with a man of his age and rank.
. . . The utmost regularity and subordination appears to prevail
in the family, and no doubt it is in many respects a good specimen
of the old English style. He is apparently a most affectionate
father, but still the sons and daughters are imder a certain degree
of restraint in his presence. ... A man, be his station of life what
it may, more entirely divested of personal pride and arrogance,
more single-minded and disinterested in his views, or more
courageous and resolute in determination to adhere to them as
the dictates of his own conscience, I cannot conceive.

From this frigid interior Mr. Gladstone made his way to
the genial company of Milnes Gaskell at Thornes and had
a delightful week. Thence he proceeded to spend some
days with his sick mother at Leamington. ' We have been
singularly dealt with as a family,' he observes, ' once snatched
from a position where we were what is called entering
society, and sent to comparative seclusion as regards family
establishment — and now again prevented from assuming the
situation that seems the natural termination of a career
like my father's. Here is a noble trial — for me personally
to exercise a kindly and unselfish feeling, if amid the ex-
citements and allurements now near me, I am enabled duly
to realise the bond of consanguinity and suffer with those
whom Providence has ordained to suffer.' And this assuredly
was no mere entry in a journal. In betrothals, marriages,
deaths, on all the great occasions of life in his circle, his

96 ENTERS PABLIAMENT

letters under old-fashioned formalities of phrase yet beat
with a marked and living pulse of genuine interest, solicitude,
1832. sympathy, unselfishness, and union.

in

As always, he sought refreshment from turmoil that was
only moderately congenial to him, in reading and writing.
Among much else he learns Shelley by heart, but his devotion
to Wordsworth is unshaken. 'One remarkable similarity
prevails between Wordsworth and Shelley ; the quality of
combining and connecting everywhere external nature with
internal and unseen mind. But how different are they in
applications. It frets and irritates the one, it is the key to
the peacefulness of the other.' Two books of Paradise Re-
gained^ he finds ' very objectionable on religious grounds,' —
the books presumably where Milton has been convicted of
Arian heresy. He still has energy enough left for more
mundane things, to write a succession of articles for the
Liverpool Standard^ and he finds time to record his joy
(December 7) ' over five Eton first classes ' at Oxford. Then,
by and by, the election accounts come in. The arrangement
had been made that the expenses were not to exceed a thou-
sand pounds, of which the duke was to contribute one half,
and John Gladstone the other half. It now appeared that
twice as much would not sufiBce. The new member flung
himself with all his soul into a struggle with his committee
against the practice of opening public houses and the exor-
bitant demands that came of it. Open houses, he protested,
meant profligate expenditure and organised drunkenness ;
they were not a pecuniary question, but a question of right
and wrong. In the afternoon of the second day of polling,
his agent had said to him, speaking about special constables,
that he scarcely knew how they could be got if wanted, for
he thought nearly every man in the town was drunk. It
was in vain that the committee assured him of the dis-
couraging truth that a certain proportion of the voters could
not be got to the poll without a breakfast ; and an observer
from another planet might perhaps have asked himself
whether all this was so remarkable an improvement on the

HIS BIRTHDAY 97

duke doing what he liked with his own. Mr. Gladstone
still stood to it that a system of entertainment that ended
in producing a state of general intoxication, was the most mt.2Z,
demoralising and vicious of all forms of outlay, and the
Newark worthies were bewildered and confounded by the
^gantic dialectical and rhetorical resources of their incensed
representative. The fierce battle lasted, with moments of
mitigation, over many of the thirteen years of the connection.
Of all the measures that Mr. Gladstone was destined in days
to come to place upon the statute book, none was more
salutary than the law that purified corrupt practices at '
elections.^

On his birthday at the close of this eventful year, here is
his entry in his diary : — 'On this day I have completed my
twenty-third year. . . . The exertions of the year have been
smaller than those of the last, but in some respects the
diminution has been unavoidable. In future I hope circum-
stances will bind me down to work with a rigour which my
natural sluggpahness will find it impossible to elude. I wish
that I could hope my frame of mind had been in any degree
removed from earth and brought nearer to heaven, that the
habit of my mind had been imbued with something of that
spirit which is not of this world. I have now familiarised
myself with maxims sanctioning and encouraging a degree
of intercourse with society, perhaps attended with much risk.
. . . Nor do I now think myself warranted in withdrawing
from the practices of my fellow men except when they
really involve an encouragement of sin, in which case I do
certainly rank races and theatres. . . .' ' Periods like these,'
he writes to his friend Gaskell (January 3, 1833), ' grievous
generally in many of their results, are by no means unfavour-
able to the due growth and progress of individual character.
I remember a very wise saying of Archidamus in Thucydides,
that the being educated iv toi9 apayKaioTdroi^ brings strength
and efficacy to the character.' ^
In one of his letters to his father at this exciting epoch

1 Sir Henry James's Act (1883). from man, except that he turns out

2 Thuc. i. 84, § 7. — * We should best who is trained in the sharpest
remember that man differs little school.'

VOL. I B

98 ENTEBS PABLIAMBNT

Mr. Gladstone says, that before the sadden opening now
made for him, what he had marked out for himself was
1833. ^^ good many years of silent reading and inquiry.' That
blessed dream was over; his own temperament and outer
circumstances, both of them made its realisation impossible ;
but in a sense he clung to it all his days. He entered at
Lincoln's Inn (January 25), and he dined pretty frequently
in hall down to 1839, meeting many old Eton and Oxford
acquaintances, more genuine law students than himself. He
kept thirteen terms but was never called to the bar. If
he had intended to undergo a legal training, the design
was ended by Newark. After residing for a short time in
lodgings in Jermyn Street, he took quarters at the Albany
(March 1833), which remained his London home for six
yeai*s. 'I am getting on rapidly with my furnishing,' he
tells his father, ^ and I shall be able, I feel confident, to do it
all, including plate, within the liberal limits which you allow.
I cannot warmly enough thank you for the terms and footing
on which you propose to place me in the chambers, but
I really fear that after this year my allowance in all will be
greater not only than I have any title to, but than I ought
to accept without blushing.' He became a member of the
Oxford and Cambridge Club the previous month,^ and now
was ' elected without my will (but not more than without it)
a member of the Carlton Club.' He would not go to dinner
parties on Sundays, not even with Sir Robert Peel. He
was closely attentive to the minor duties of social life, if
duties they be ; he was a strict observer of the etiquette of
calls, and on some afternoons he notes that he made a dozen
or fourteen of them. He frequented musical parties, where
his fine voice, now reasonably well trained, made him a wel-
come guest, and he goes to public concerts where he finds
Pasta and Schroder splendid. His irrepressible desire to
expand himself in writing or in speech found a vent in con-
stant articles in the Liverpool Standard^ neither better nor
worse than the ordinary juvenilia of a keen young college

1 Proposed by Sir R. Inglis and Taunton. He was on the committee
seconded by George Denison, after- from 1834 to 1838, and he withdrew
wards the militant Archdeacon of from the Club at the end of 1S42.

/

LONDON LIFE 99

politiciaa. He was confident that, whether estimated by

their numbers, their wealth, or their respectability, the con-

servatiTes indubitably held in their hands the means and je^,2L

elements of permanent power. He discharges a fusillade

from Roman history against the bare idea of vote by ballot,

quotes Cicero as its determined enemy, and ascribes to

secret suffrage .the fall of the republic. He quotes with

much zest a sentence from an ultra-radical journal that the

life of the West Indian negro is happiness itself compared

with that of the poor inmate of our spinning-mills. He

scores a good point for the patron of Newark, by an eloquent

article on the one man who had laboured to retrieve the

miserable condition of the factory children, and ends with

a taunting reminder to the reformers that this one man,

Sadler,^ was the nominee of a borough-monger, and that

borough-monger the Duke of Newcastle.

It need not be said that his church-going never flagged.
In 1840 his friend, the elder Acland, interested himself in
forming a small brotherhood, with rules for systematic
exercises of devotion and works of mercy. Mr. Gladstone
was one of the number. The names were not published, nor
did any one but the treasurer know the amounts given.
The pledge to personal and active benevolence seems not to
have been strongly operative, for at the end of 1845 (Dec. 7)
Mr. Gladstone writes to Hope in reference to Acland's
scheme : — ' The desire we then both felt passed off, as far as
I am concerned, into a plan of asking only a donation and
subscription. Now it is very difficult to satisfy the demands
of duty to the poor by money alone. On the other hand, it
is extremely hard for me — and I suppose possibly for you —
to give them much in the shape of time and thought, for
both with me are already tasked up to and beyond their
powers. ... I much wish we could execute some plan which
without demanding much time would entail the discharge of

1 Sadler is now not much more than beat him at Leeds in 1832. But he

a name, except to students of the deserves our honourable recollection

historj' of social reform in England, on the ground mentioned by Mr.

known to some by a couple of articles Gladstone, as a man of indefatigable

nf Macaolay^s, written in that great and effective zeal in one of the best

man* 8 least worthy and least agreeable of causes,
style, and by the fact that Macaulay

100 ENTERS PARLIAMENT

BOOK some humble and humbling office. . . . If you thought with
' y me — and I do not see why you should not, except to assume

1833. *^® reverse is paying myself a compliment — let us go to work,
as in the young days of the college plan but with a more
direct and less ambitious purpose.' Of this we may see some-
thing later. At a great service at St. Paul's, he notes the glory
alike of sight and sound as 'possessing that remarkable cri-
terion of the sublime, a grand result from a combination of
simple elements.' Edward Irving did not attract ; * a scene
pregnant with melancholy instruction.' lie was immensely
struck by Melvill, whom some of us have heard pronounced
by the generation before us to be the most puissant of all the
men in his calling. ' His sentiments,' says Mr. Gladstone,
* are manly in tone ; he deals powerfully with all his subjects ;
his language is flowing and unbounded ; his imagery varied
and intensely strong. Vigorous and lofty as are his con-
ceptions, he is not, I think, less remarkable for soundness
and healthiness of mind.* Such a passage shows among
other things how the diarist was already teaching himself
to analyse the art of oratory. I may note one rather curious
habit, no doubt practised with a view to training in the
art of speech. Besides listening to as many sermons as
possible, he was also for a long time fond of reading them
aloud, especially Dr. Arnold's, in rather a peculiar way.
*My plan is,' he says, 'to strengthen or qualify or omit
expressions as I go along.'

IV

In an autobiographical note, written in the late dajB of
his life, when he had become the only commoner left who
had sat in the old burned House of Commons, he says : —

I took my seat at the opening of 1833, provided unquestionably
with a large stock of schoolboy bashfulness. The first time that
business required me to go to the arm of the chair to say some-
thing to the Speaker, Manners Sutton — the first of seven whose
subject I have been — who was something of a Keate, I remem-
ber the revival in me bodily of the frame of mind in which a
schoolboy stands before his master. But apart from an incidental

HOUSE OF COMMONS 101

reooUection of this kind, I found it most difficult to believe with
any reality of belief, that such a poor and icsignificant creature
as I, could really belong to, really form a part of, an assembly jg,^^^
which, notwithstanding the prosaic character of its entire visible
equipment, I felt to be so august What I may term ks.tjorporeal
conveniences were, I may observe in passing, marvellously small.
I do not think that in any part of the building it afforded tHe
means of so much as washing the hands. The residences of mem^
bers were at that time less distant: but they were principally'
reached on foot. When a large House broke up after a consider-
able division, a copious dark stream found its way up Parliament
Street, Whitehall, and Charing Cross.

I remember that there occurred some case in which a constituent

(probably a maltster) at Newark sent me a communication which

made oral communication with the treasury, or with the chancellor

of the exchequer (then Lord Althorp), convenient. As to the

means of bringing this about, I was puzzled and abashed. Some

experienced friend on the opposition bench, probably Mr. Goul-

burn, said to me. There is Lord Althorp sitting alone on the

treasury bench, go to him and tell him your business. With

such encouragement I did it. Lord Althorp received me in the

kindest manner possible, alike to my pleasure and my surprise.

The exact composition of the first reformed House of
Commons was usually analysed as tories 144 ; reformers 395 ;
English and Scotch radicals 76; Irish repealers 43. Mr.
Gladstone was for counting the decided conservatives as
160 and reckoning as a separate group a small party who
had once been tories and now ranked between conservative
opposition and whig ministers. The Irish representatives
he divided between 28 tories, and a body of 50 who were
made up of ministerialists, conditional repealers, and tithe
extinguishers. He heard Joseph Hume, the most effective
of the leading radicals, get the first word in the reformed
parliament, speaking for an hour and perhaps justifying
OTonneU's witty saying that Hume would have been an
excellent speaker, if only he would finish a sentence before
beginning the next but one after it.
No more diligent member of parliament than Mr. Glad-

102 BNTEtBS PABLIAMENT

stone ever sat upon the. green benches. He read his blue-
books, did his .duty' by election committees, and on the
13^ first occasion -Vhen^ in consequence of staying a little too
long at a dinner at the Duke of Hamilton's, he missed a
divisionV.h^ self-reproach was almost as sharp as if he had
fallen into mortal sin. This is often enough the way with
•yirtuous young members, but Mr. Gladstone's zealous ideal
pi parliamentary duty lasted, and both at first and always
* he was a singular union of deep meditative seriousness with
untiring animation, assiduity, and practical energy and force
working over a wide field definitely mapped.

In the assembly where he was one day to rank among
the most powerful orators ever inscribed upon its golden
roll, he first opened his lips in a few words on a Newark
petition (April 30) and shortly after (May 21) he spoke
two or three minutes on an Edinburgh petition. A little
later the question of slavery, where he knew every inch of
the ground, brought him to a serious ordeal. In May,
Stanley as colonial secretary introduced the proposals of the
government for the gradual abolition of colonial slavery.
Abolition was to be preceded by an intermediate stage,
designated as apprenticeship, to last for twelve years; and
the planters were to be helped through the difficulties of the
transition by a loan of fifteen millions. In the course of the
proceedings, the intermediate period was shortened from
twelve years to seven, and the loan of fifteen millions was
transformed into a free gift of twenty. To this scheme John
Gladstone, whose indomitable energy made him the leading
spirit of the West Indian interest, was consistently opposed,
and he naturally became the mark of abolitionist attack.
The occasion of Mr. Gladstone's first speech was an attack by
Lord Howick on the manager of John Gladstone's Demerara
estates, whom he denounced as * the murderer of slaves,' —
an attack made without notice to the two sons of the
incriminated proprietor sitting in front of him. He declared
that the slaves on the Vreedenhoop sugar plantations were
systematically worked to death in order to increase the
crop. Mr. Gladstone tried in vain to catch the eye of the
Chairman on May 80, and the next day he wished to speak

ICAIDEK 8PBB0H 103

bat saw no good opportunity. ^ The emotions through which

one passes, at least through which I pass, in anticipating

such an effort as this, are painful and humiliating. The ^^^

utter prostration and depression of spirit ; the deep sincerity,

the burdensome and overpowering reality of the feeling of

mere feebleness and incapacity, felt in the inmost heart,

yet not to find relief by expression, because the expression

of such things goes for affectation, — these things I am unequal

to describe, yet I have experienced them now.' On June 8,

the chance came. Here is his story of the day: ^ Began le

miei Priffioni. West India meeting of members at one

at Lord Sandon's. Resolutions discussed and agreed upon ;

. . . dined early. Re-an-anged my notes for the debate.

Rode. House 6 to 1. Spoke my first time, for 60 minutes.

My leading desire was to benefit the cause of those who are

now so sorely beset. The House heard me very kindly,

and my friends were satisfied. Tea afterwards at the

Carlton.' The speech was an uncommon success. Stanley,

the minister mainly concerned, congratulated him with more

than those conventional compliments which the good nature

of the House of Commons expects to be paid to any decent

beginner. 'I never listened to any speech with greater

pleasure,' said Stanley, himself the prince of debaters and

then in the most brilliant part of his career ; * the member for

Newark argued his case with a temper, an ability, and a

fairness which may well be cited as a good model to many

older members of this House.' His own leader, though he

spoke later, said nothing in his speech about the new recruit,

but two days after Mr. Gladstone mentioned that Sir R.

Peel came up to him and praised Monday night's affair.

King William wrote to Althorp : ' he rejoices that a young

member has come forward in so promising a manner, as

Viscount Althorp states Mr. W. E. Gladstone to have done.' ^

Apart from its special vindication in close detail of the

state of things at Vreedenhoop as being no worse than

others, the points of the speech on this great issue of the

time were familiar ones. He confessed with shame and

pain that cases of cruelty had existed, and would always

1 Memoir of Althorpy p. 471.

104 ENTERS PARLIAMENT

exist, under the system of slavery, and that this was ^a
substantial reason why the British legislature and public
iSdd. should set themselves in good earnest to provide for its
extinction.' He admitted, too, that we had not fulfilled our
Christian obligations by communicating the inestimable
benefits of our religion to the slaves in our colonies, and that
the belief among the early English planters, that if you made
a man a Christian you could not keep him a slave, had
led them to the monstrous conclusion that they ought
not to impart Christianity to their slaves. Its extinction
was a consummation devoutly to be desired, and in good
earnest to be forwarded, but immediate and unconditioned
emancipation, without a previous advance in character, must
place the negro in a state where he would be his own worst
enemy, and so must crown all the wrongs already done
to him by cutting off the last hope of rising to a higher
level in social existence. At some later period of his life
Mr. Gladstone read a corrected report of his first speech, and
found its tone much less than satisfactory. * But of course,'
he adds, ^allowance must be made for the enormous and
most blessed change of opinion since that day on the subject
of negro slavery. I must say, however, that even before this
time I had come to entertain little or no confidence in the
proceedings of the resident agents in the West Indies.' 'I
can now see plainly enough,' he said sixty years later, * the
sad defects, the real illiberalism of my opinions on that
subject. Yet they were not illiberal as compared with the
ideas of the times, and as declared in parliament in 1833
they obtained the commendation of the liberal leaders.'

It is fair to remember that Pitt, Fox, Grenville, and Grey,
while eager to bring the slave trade to an instant end,
habitually disclaimed as a calumny any intention of emanci-
pating the blacks on the sugar islands. In 1807, when the
foul blot of the trade was abolished, even Wilberforce him-
self discouraged attempts to abolish slavery, though the
noble philanthropist soon advanced to the full length of his
own principles. Peel in 1833 would have nothing to do with
either immediate emancipation or gradual. Disraeli has put
his view on deliberate record that Hhe movement of the

COMMON OPINIONS ON SLAVEKY 105

middle class for the abolition of slavery was virtuous, but it CHAP,
was not wise. It was an ignorant movement. The history of ^ ^'
the abolition of slavery by the English, and its consequences, ^j^ 24
would be a narrative of ignorance, injustice, blundering, waste,
and havoc, not easily paralleled in the history of mankind.' ^

A week later Lord Howick proposed to move for papers
relating to Vreedenhoop. Lord Althorp did not refuse to
grant them, but recommended him to drop his motion, as
Mr. Gladstone insisted on the equal necessity of a similar
return for all neighbouring plantations. Howick withdrew
lus motion, though he afterwards asserted that ministers
had declined the return, which was not true. When Buxton
moved to reduce the term of apprenticeship, Mr. Gladstone
voted against him. On the following day Stanley, without
previous intimation, announced the change from twelve
years to seven. ' I spoke a few sentences,' Mr. Gladstone
enters in his diary, ^ in much confusion : for I could not
easily recover from the sensation caused by the sudden
overthrow of an entire and undoubting alliance.'

The question of electoral scandals at Liverpool, which
naturally excited lively interest in a family with local ties
so strong, came up in various forms during the session,
and on one of these occasions (July 4) Mr. Gladstone spoke
upon it, * for twenty minutes or more, anything but satis-
factorily to myself.' Nor can the speech now be called
satisfactory by any one else, except for the enunciation of
the sound maxim that the giver of a bribe deserves punish-
ment quite as richly as the receiver. Four days later he
spoke for something less than half an hour on the third
reading of the Irish Church Reform bill. 'I was heard,'
he tells his father, 'with kindness and indulgence, but it
is, after all, uphill work to address an assembly so much
estranged in feeling from one's self.' Peel's speech was
described as temporising, and the deliverance of his young
lieutenant was temporising too, though firm on the necessary
principle, as he called it, of which the world was before
long to hear so much from him, that the nation should be
taxed for the support of a national church.

1 Lord George Bentincky chapter xviii. p. 324.

106 ENTERS PABLIAMENT

Besides his speeches he gave a full number of party votes,
some of them interesting enough in view of the vast career
1833. before him. I think the first of them all was in the majority
of 428 against 40 upon O'Connell's amendment for repeal, —
an occasion that came vividly to his memory on the eve of
his momentous change of policy in 1886. He voted for the
worst clauses of the Irish Coercion bill, including the court-
martial clause. He fought steadily against the admission
of Jews to parliament. He fought against the admission of
dissenters without a test to the universities, which he described
as seminaries for the established church. He supported the
existing com law. He said ' No ' to the property tax and
* Aye ' for retaining the house and window taxes. He resisted
a motion of Hume's for the abolition of military and naval
sinecures (February 14), and another motion of the same
excellent man's for the abolition of all flogging in the army
save for mutiny and drunkenness. He voted against the
publication of the division lists. He voted with ministers
both against shorter parliaments and (April 25) against the
ballot, a cardinal reform carried by his own government forty
years later. On the other hand he voted (July 5) with Lord
Ashley against postponing his beneficent policy of factory
legislation; but he did not vote either way a fortnight later
when Althorp sensibly reduced the limit of ten hours' work
in factories from the impracticable age of eighteen proposed
by Ashley, to the age of thirteen. He supported a bill against
work on Sundays.

V

A page or two from his diary will carry us succinctly
enough over the rest of the first and second years of his
parliamentary life.

Jvly 21, 1833, Sunday, — ... Wrote some lines and prose also.
Finished Strype. Read Abbott and Sumner aloud. Thought
for some hours on my own future destiny, and took a solitary walk
to and about Kensington Gardens. July 23. — Read L^AJlemaqne^
Rape of the Lock, and finished factory report. Jvly 26. — Went to
breakfast with old Mr. Wilberforce, introduced by his son. He is
cheerful and serene, a beautiful picture of old age in sight of im-

PUECHASB OF FASQUE 107

mortality. Heard him pray with his family. Blessing and honour
are upon his head. July 30. — L'Allemagne. Bulwer^s England.
PamelL Looked at my Plato. Rode. House. July 31. — Hallam ^^24
breakfasted with me. . . . Committee on West India bill fin-
ished. . . . German lesson. August 2. — Worked German several
hours. Bead half of the Bride of Lammermoor, L^Allemagne.
Rode. House. August 3. — German lesson and worked alone. . . .
Attended Mr. Wilberforce's funeral ; it brought solemn thoughts,
particularly about the slaves. This a burdensome question.
[German kept up steadily for many days.] August 9. — House . . .
voted in 48 to 87 against legal tender clause. . . . Eead Tasso.
August 11. — St. James's morning and afternoon. Eead Bible.
Abbott (finished) and a sermon of Blomfield's aloud. Wrote a
paraphrase of part of chapter 8 of Romans. August 15. — Com-
mittee 1-3J. Rode. Plato. Finished Tasso, canto 1. Anti-
slavery observations on bill. German vocabulary and exercise.
August 16. — 2J-3J^ Committee finished. German lesson. Finished
Plato, RepubliCy bk. v. Preparing to pack. August 17. — Started
for Aberdeen on board Queen of Scotland at 12. August l^th. — Rose
to breakfast, but uneasily. Attempted reading, and read most of
Baxter's narrative. Not too unwell to reflect. August l^th, —
Remained in bed. Read Goethe and translated a few lines. Also
Beavties of Shakespere, In the evening it blew : very ill though in
W. Could not help admiring the crests of the waves even as I
stood at cabin window. August 20. — Arrived 8 J a.m. — 56^ hours.

His father met him, and in the evening he and his brother
found themselves at the new paternal seat. In 1829 John
Gladstone, after much negotiation, had bought the estate of
Fasque in Kincardineshire for £80,000, to which and to
other Scotch affairs he devoted his special and personal
attention pretty exclusively. The home at Seaforth was
broken up, though relatives remained there or in the
neighbourhood. For some time he had a house in Edin-
burgh for private residence — the centre house in AthoU
Crescent. They used for three or four years to come in
from Kincardineshire, and spend the winter months in
Edinburgh. Fasque was his home for the rest of his days.
This was W. E. Gladstone's first visit, followed by at least

108 EKTEBS PABLTAMKNT

one long annual spell for the remaining eighteen years of
his father's life.

1833. ^^ ^^ morning of his arrival, he notes, ^ I rode to the mill
of Kincaim to see Maekay who was shot last night. He was
suffering much and seemed near death. Read the Holy
Scriptures to him (Psalms 51, 69, 71, Isaiah 55, Joh. 14, Col.
3). Left my prayer book.' The visit was repeated daily
until the poor man's death a week later. Apart from such
calls of duty, books are his main interest. He is greatly
delighted with Hamilton's Men and Manners in America.
Alfieri's Antigone he dislikes as having the faults of both
ancient and modern drama. He grinds away through Gifford's
Pitt^ and reads Hallam's Middle Ages, ^My method has
usually been, 1, to read over regularly ; 2, to glance again
over all I have read, and analyse.' He was just as little of
the lounger in his lighter reading. Schiller's plays he went
through with attention, finding it * a good plan to read along
with history, historical plays of the same events for material
illustration, as well as aid to the memory.' He read Scott's
chapters on Mary Stuart in his history of Scotland, 'to
enable me better to appreciate the admirable judgment
of Schiller (in Maria Stiuirt) both where he has adhered to
history and where he has gone beyond it.' He finds fault
with the Temistocle of Metastasio, as ' too humane.' * History
should not be violated without a reason. It may be set aside
to fill up poetical verisimilitude. If history assigns a cause
inadequate to its effect, or an effect inadequate to its cause,
poetry may supply the deficiency for the sake of an impressive
whole. But it is too much to overset a narrative and call it
a historical play.' Then came a tragic stroke in real life.

October 6, 1833. — Post hour to-day brought me a melancholy
announcement — the death of Arthur Hallam. This intelligence
was deeply oppressive even to my selfish disposition. I mourn in
him, for myself, my earliest near friend ; for my fellow creatures,
one who would have adorned his age and country, a mind full of
beauty and of power, attaining almost to that ideal standard of
which it is presumption to expect an example. When shall I see
his like ? Yet this dispensation is not all pain, for there is a hope

DAYS IN SCOTLAND 109

and not (in my mind) a bare or rash hope that his soul rests with
God in Jesus Christ. ... I walked upon the hills to muse upon
this very mournful event, which cuts me to the heart Alas for ^^^24
his family and his intended bride. October 7th. — My usual occu-
pationSy but not without many thoughts upon my departed friend.
Bible. Alfieri, WcUlenstein, Plato, Gifford's Pitt, Biographia Liter-
aricL Bode with my father and Helen. All objects lay deep in
the softness and solemnity of autumnal decay. Alas, my poor
friend was cut off in the spring of his bright existence.

December 13, Edinburgh. — Breakfast with Dr. Chalmers. His
modesty is so extreme that it is oppressive to those who are
in his company, especially his juniors, since it is impossible for
them to keep their behaviour in due proportion to his. He was
on his own subject, the Poor Laws, very eloquent, earnest, and
impressive. Perhaps he may have been hasty in applying maxims
drawn from Scotland to a more advanced stage of society in Eng-
land. December 17. — Robertson's Charles F., Plato, began book 10.
Chalmers. Singing-lesson and practice. Whist. Walked on the
Glasgow road, first milestone to fourth and back in 70 minutes —
the returning three miles in about 33f . Ground in some places
rather muddy and slippery. December 26. — A feeble day. Three
successive callers and conversation with my father occupied the
morning. Read a good allowance of Robertson, an historian who
Imhhis reader on, I think, more pleasantly than any I know. The
style most attractive, but the mind of the writer does not set forth
the loftiest principles. December 2dth, Sunday. — Twenty-four
years have I lived. . . . Where is the contiriuous work which ought
to fill up the life of a Christian without intermission ? . . . I have
been growing, that is certain ; in good or evil ? Much fluctuation ;
often a supposed progress, terminating in finding myself at, or
short of, the point which I deemed I had left behind me. Business
and political excitement a tremendous trial, not so much alleviat-
ing as forcibly dragging down the soul from that temper which is
fit to inhale the air of heaven. Jan. 8, 1834, Edinburgh. — Break-
fast with Dr. Chalmers. Attended his lecture 2-3. . . . More than
ever struck with the superabundance of Dr. C.'s gorgeous language,
which leads him into repetitions, until the stores of our tongue be
exhausted on each particular point. Yet the variety and magnifi-

110 ENTEBS PABLIAHENT

oence of his expositions must fix them very strongly in the minds
of his hearers. In ordinary works great attention would be excited
1834 ^y *^® ^®^y infrequent occurrence of the very brilliant expressions
and illustrations with which he cloys the palate. His gems lie
like paving stones. He does indeed seem to be an admirable man.

Of Edinburgh his knowledge soon became intimate. His
father and mother took him to that city, as we have seen,
in 1814. He spent a spring there in 1828 just before
going to Oxford, and he recollected to the end of his
life a sermon of Dr. Andrew Thomson's on the Repent-
ance of Judas, ^a great and striking subject.' Some
circumstance or another brought him into relations with
Chalmers, that ripened into friendship. * We used to have
walks together,' Mr. Gladstone remembered, * chiefly out of
the town by the Dean Bridge and along the Queensferry
road. On one of our walks together, Chalmers took me
down to see one of liis districts by the water of Leith, and
I remember we went into one or more of the cottages. He
went in with smiling countenance, greeting and being greeted
by the people, and sat down. But he had nothing to say.
j He was exactly like the Duke of Wellington, who said of
{ himself that he had no small talk. His whole mind was
^ always full of some great subject and he could not deviate
from it. He sat smiling among the people, but he had no
small talk for them and they had no large talk. So after
some time we came away, he pleased to have been with the
people, and they proud to have had the Doctor with them.'^
For Chalmers he never lost a warm appreciation, often
expressed in admirable words — 'one of natui'e's nobles;
his warrior grandeur, his rich and glowing eloquence, his
absorbed and absorbing earnestness, above all his singular
simplicity and detachment from the world.' Among other
memories, 'There was a quaint old shop at the Bowhead
which used to interest me very much. It was kept by a
bookseller, Mr. Thomas Nelson. I remember being amused
by a reply he made to me one day when I went in and asked
for Booth's Reign of Q-race, He half turned his head towards

1 Report of an interview with Mr. GladBtone in 1890, in ScottUh Liberal^
May 2, 9, etc., 1890.

BELATIONS WITH GHALSCEBS 111

me, and remarked with a peculiar twinkle in bis eye, ^^ Ay,

man, but ye're a young chiel to be askin' after a book like

that."'

On his way south in January 1834, Mr. Gladstone stays

with relatives at Seaforth, * where even the wind howling
upon the window at night was dear and familiar;' and a
few days later finds himself once more within the ever
congenial walls of Oxford.

January 19, Sunday, — Read the first lesson in morning chapel.
A most masterly sermon of Pusey's preached by Clarke. Lancaster
in the afternoon on the Sacrament. Good walk. Wrote [family
letters]. Read Whyte. Three of Girdlestone's Sermons. Picker-
ing on adult baptism (some clever and singularly insufficient
reasoning). Episcopal pastoral letter for 1832. Doane's Ordi-
nation sermon, 1833, admirable, — Wrote some thoughts. Jan.
20. — Sismondi's Italian Republics, Dined at Merton, and spent all
the evening there in interesting conversation. I was Hamilton's
guest [afterwards Bishop of Salisbury]. It was delightful, it
wrings joy even from the most unfeeling heart, to see religion
on the increase as it is here. Jan, 23rd, — Much of to-day,
it fell out, spent in conversation of an interesting kind, with
BranJreth and Pearson on eternal punishment ; with Williams on
baptism ; with Churton on faith and religion in the university ;
with Harrison on prophecy and the papacy. . . . Jan. 24. —
Btfiran Essay on Saving Faith, and wrote thereon. Jan. 29th.
— Dined at Oriel. Conversation with !N"ewman chiefly on church
matters. ... I excuse some idleness to myself by the fear of
doing some real injury to my eyes. [After a flight of three or
four days to London, he again returns for a Sunday in Oxford.]
/>6. 9. — Two university sermons and St. Peter's. Hound the
meadows with Williams. Dined with him, common room. Tea
and a pleasant conversation with Harrison. Began CJirysostom
de Sacerdotio, and Cecil's Friendly Visit. [Then he goes back to
town for the rest of the session.] Feb, 12, London. — Finished
Friendly Visit, beautiful little book. Finished Tennyson's poems.
Wrote a paper on ^Sucrj Trtorts in poetry. Recollections of
Robert Hall. 13th. — With Doyle, long and solemn conversar
tion on the doctrine of the Trinity. . . . Began Wardlaw's

.^^•.25.

112 fiNTBRS PARLIAMENT

Christian Ethics. 26iA, London. — A busy day, yet of little palpable
profit. . . . Read two important Demerara papers. . . . Rode.
1834. -^* *^® levee. House 5^11. Wished to speak, but deterred by
the extremely ill disposition to hear. Much sickened by their
unfairness in the judicial character, more still at my own wretched
feebleness and fears. April 1. — Dined at Sir R. Peel's. Herries,
Sir G. Murray, Chan trey, etc. Sir R. Peel very kind in his manner
to us. May 29. — Mignet's Introduction [to * the History of the
Spanish succession,' one of the masterpieces of historical litera-
ture]. June 4. — Bruce to breakfast. Paper. Mignet and analysis.
Burke. Harvey committee.^ Ancient music concert. Dined at
Lincoln's Inn. House 11^12|. Rode. June 6. — Paradise Lost.
Began Leibnitz's Tentamina TheodicecB. June 11. — Read Pitt's
speeches on the Union in January, 1799, and Grattan on Catholic
petition in 1805. Ibth. — Read some passages in the latter part
of Corinne, which always work strongly on me. ISth. — Coming
home to dine, found Remains of A. H. H. Yesterday a bridal at
a friend's, to-day a sad memorial of death. 'Tis a sad subject, a
very sad one to me. I have not seen his like. The memory of
him reposes gently in my inmost heart, a fountain of tears which
soften and fertilise it in the midst of pursuits whose tendency is
to dry up the sources of emotion by the fever of excitement. I
read his memoir. His father had done me much and undeserved
kindness there. 20th. — Most of my time went in thinking con-
fusedly over the university question. Very anxious to speak,
tortured with nervous anticipations ; could not get an opportunity.
Certainly my inward experience on these occasions ought to make
me humble. Herbert's maiden speech very successful. I ought
to be thankful for my miss; perhaps also because my mind was so
much oppressed that I could not, I fear, have unfolded my inward
convictions. What a world it is, and how does it require the
Divine power and aid to clothe in words the profound and

1 Daniel Whittle Harvey was an charges. O'Connell was chairman,

eloquent member of parliament and they acquitted Harvey, without

whom the benchers of his inn re- however affecting the decision of the

fused to call to the bar, on the benchers. Mr. Gladstone was the

ground of certain charges against his only member of the committee whc

probity. The House appointed a did not concur in its final judgment,

committee of which Mr. Gladstone See his article on Daniel O^ConneU is

was a member to inquire into these the Nineteenth Century^ Jan. 1889.

THE UNIVEBSITY QUESTION 118

mysterious thoughts on those subjects most connected with the CHAP.
human soul — thoughts which the mind does not command as a ^
mistress, but entertains reverentially as honoured guests ... ^^ 26
content with only a partial comprehension, hoping to render it
a progressive one, but how difficult to define in words a con-
ception, many of whose parts are still in a nascent state with
no fixed outline or palpable substance. July 2. — ... Guizot.
Cousin. Bossuet {Hist, Univ.), Rode. Committee and House,
(.urious detail from O'Connell of his interview with Littleton.
Wi. — 1\ A.M.-7^ in an open chaise to Coggeshall and back with
OVonnell and Sir G. Sinclair, to examine Skingley [a proceeding
arising from the Harvey committee], which was done with little
success.

The conversation of the great Liberator was never wholly
forgotten, and it was probably his earliest chance of a
glimpse of the Irish point of view at first hand.

July 11. — No news till the afternoon and then heard on very

good authority that the Grey government is definitely broken up,

and that attempts at reconstruction have failed. Cousin, Sismondi,

Education evidence. Letters. House. 21st, — To-day not for the

first time felt a great want of courage to express feelings strongly

awakened on hearing a speech of O'Connell. To have so strong

an impulse and not obey it seems unnatural; it seems like an

inflicted dumbness. 28fA. — Spoke 30 to 35 minutes on University

bill with more ease than I had hoped, having been more mindful

or less unmindful of Divine aid. Divided in 75 v. 164. [To his

father next day.] You will see by your Post that I held forth

last niglit on the Universities bill. The House I am glad to say

lieard me with the utmost kindness, for they had been listening

previously to an Indian discussion in which very few people took

any interest, though indeed it was both curious and interesting.

But the change of subject was no doubt felt as a relief, and their

disposition to listen set me infinitely more at my ease than I

should otherwise have been. 29^/i. — Pleasant house dinner at

Carlton. Lincoln got up the party. Sir R. Peel was in good

spirits and very agreeable.

It was on this occasion that he wrote to his mother, — ' Sir

114 ENTEBS FABUAMENT

Robert Peel caused me much gratification by the way in
which he spoke to me of my speech, and particularly the
1834. gi'eat warmth of his manner. He told me he cheered me
loudly, and I said in return that I had heard his voice under
me while speaking, and was much encouraged thereby.' He
ends the note already cited (Sept. 6, 1897) on the old House
of Commons, which was burned down this year, with what he
calls a curious incident concerning Sir Robert Peel, and with
a sentence or two upon the government of Lord Grey : —

Cobbett made a motion alike wordy and absurd, praying the
king to remove him [Peel] from the privy council as the author
of the act for the re-establishment of the gold standard in 1819.
The entire House was against him, except his colleague Fielden
of Oldham, who made a second teller.* After the division I think
Lord Althorp at once rose and moved the expunction of the
proceedings from the votes or journals ; a severe rebuke to the
mover. Sir Robert in his speech said, ' I am at a loss, sir, to con-
ceive what can be the cause of the strong hostility to me which
the honourable gentleman exhibits. / never conferred on him an
obligation.' This stroke was not original. But what struck me
at the time as singular was this, that notwithstanding the state of
feeling which I have described, Sir R. Peel was greatly excited in
dealing with one who at the time was little more than a con-
temptible antagonist. At that period shirt collars were made
with ' gills ' which came up upon the cheek ; and PeePs gills were
so soaked with perspiration that they actually lay down upon his
neck-cloth.

In one of these years, I think 1833, a motion was made by some
political economist for the abolition of the corn laws. I (an
absolute and literal ignoramus) was much struck and staggered
with it. But Sir James Graham — who knew more of economic
and trade matters, I think, than the rest of the cabinet of 1841
all put together — made a reply in the sense of protection, whether
high or low I cannot now say. But I remember perfectly well
that this speech of his built me up again for the moment and
enabled me (I believe) to vote with the government.

^ See Cobbett's Life by Edward mingham seems to have voted for the
Smith, ii. p. 2S7. Attwood of Bir- motion.

A YEAR OF SPLENDID LEGISLATION 115

The year 1833 was, as measured by quantity and in part by CIIAP.
quality, a splendid year of legislation. In 1834 the Government , * ,
and Lord Althorp far beyond all others did themselves high ^t.26.
honour by the new Poor Law Act, which rescued the English
peasantry from the total loss of their independence. Of the 658
members of Parliament about 480 must have been their general
supporters. Much gratitude ought to have been felt for this
great administration. But from a variety of causes, at the close
of the session 1834 the House of Commons had fallen into a state
of cold indifference about it.

He was himself destined one day to feel how soon parlia-
mentary reaction may follow a sweeping popular triumph.

CHAPTER II

THB NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFICE

I CON8IDBB the Reform bill a final and irrevocable settlement of a
great constitutional question. ... If by adopting the spirit of the
Reform bill it be meant that we are to live in a perpetual vortex of
agitation ; that public men can only support themselves in public
estimation by adopting every popular impression of the day, by
promising the instant redress of anything that anybody may call
an abuse ... I will not undertake to adopt it. But if the
spirit of the Reform bill implies merely a careful review of institu-
tions civil and ecclesiastical, undertaken in a friendly temper, the
correction of proved abuses and the redress of real grievances,
then, etc. etc. — Peel {Tamworth Address),

The autumn of 1834 was spent at Fasque. An observant
eye followed political affairs, but hardly a word is said about
1834 them in the diary. A stiff battle was kept up against
electioneering iniquities at Newark. Riding, boating, shoot-
ing were Mr. Gladstone's pastimes in the day ; billiards, sing-
ing, backgammon, and a rubber in the evening. Sport was
not without compunction which might well, in an age that
counts itself humane, be expected to come oftener. * Had to
kill a wounded partridge,' he records, 'and felt after it as if
I had shot the albatross. It might be said : This should be
more or less.' And that was true. He was always a great
walker. He walked from Montrose, some thirteen or four-
teen miles off, in two hours and three quarters, and another
time he does six miles in seventy minutes. . Nor does
he ever walk with an unobserving mind. At Lochnagar:
*Saw Highland women from Strathspey coming down for
harvest with heavy loads, some with babies, over these wild
rough paths through wind and storm. Ah, with what
labour does a large portion of mankind subsist, while we fare

lie

MISCELLANEOUS BEADING 117

sumptuously every day ! ' This was the ready susceptibility
to humane impression in the common circumstance of life,
the eye stirring the emotions of the feeling heart, that ^26.
nourished in him the soul of true oratory, to say nothing
of feeding the roots of statesmanship. His bookminded-
ness is unabated. He began with a resolution to work at
least two hours every morning before breakfast, and the
resolution seems to have been manfully kept, without
prejudice to systematic reading for a good many hours of
the day besides. For the first time, rather strange to say,
be read St. Augustine's Confe%%ion%^ and with the delight
that might have been expected. He finds in that famous
composition 'a good deal of prolix and fanciful, though
acute speculation, but the practical parts of the book have a
wonderful force, and inimitable sweetness and simplicity.'
In other departments of religion, he read Archbishop
Leighton*s life and Hannah More's, Arnold's Sermons and
Milner's Church History and Whewell's Bridgewater Treatise.
Once more he analyses the Novum Organum and the
Advancement of Learning^ and he reads or re-reads Locke's
E$say. He studies political science in the two great manuals
of the old world and the new, in the Politics of Aristotle and
the Prince of Machiavelli. He goes through three or four plays
of Schiller; also Manzoni, and Petrarch, and Dante at the
patient rate of a couple of cantos a day ; then Boccaccio, from
whom, after a half-dozen of the days, he willingly parts
company, only interested in him as showing a strange state
of manners and how religion can be dissociated from con-
duct. In modern politics he reads the memoirs of Chatham,
and Brougham on Colonial Policy, of which he says that
* eccentricity, paradox, fast and loose reasoning and (much
more) sentiment, appear to have entered most deeply into
the essence of this remarkable man when he wrote his
Colonial Policy, as now ; with the rarest power of expressing
his thoughts, has he any fixed law to guide them? ' On Roscoe's
Lfo X. he remarks how interesting and highly agreeable it is
in style, and while disclaiming any right to judge its fidelity
and research, makes the odd observation that it has in some
degree subdued the leaven of its author's unitarianism. He

1834.

118 THE NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFICE

writes occasional verses, including the completion of * some
stanzas of December 1832 on " The Human Heart," but I am
not impudent enough to call them by that name.'

In the midst of days well filled by warm home feeling,
reasonable pleasure, and vigorous animation of intellect
came the summons to action. On November 18, a guest
arrived with the astonishing news that ministers were
out. The king had dismissed the Melbourne government,
partly because he did not believe that Lord John Russell
could take the place of Althorp as leader of the Commons,
partly because like many cleverer judges he was sick of them,
and partly because, as is perhaps the case with more cabinets
than the world supposes, the ministers were sick of one
another, and King William knew it. Mr. Gladstone in 1875 ^
described the dismissal of the whigs in 1834 as the indiscreet
proceeding of an honest and well-meaning man, which gave
the conservatives a momentary tenure of oflBce without
power, but provoked a strong reaction in favour of the
liberals, and greatly prolonged the predominance which
they were on the point of losing through the play of natural
causes.^ Sir Robert Peel was summoned in hot haste from
Rome, and after a journey of twelve days over alpine snows,
eight nights out of the twelve in a carriage, on December 9
he reached London, saw the king and kissed hands as first
lord of the treasury. Less than two years before, he had
said, * I feel that between me and oflBce there is a wider gulf
than there is perhaps between it and any other man in
the House.'

Mr. Gladstone meanwhile at Fasque worked off some of
his natural excitement which he notes as invading even
Sundays, by the composition of a political tract. The tract
has disappeared down the gulf of time. December 11
was his father's seventieth birthday, *his strength and
energy wonderful and giving promise of many more.'
Within the week the fated message from the new prime

^ Oleaningsy i. p. 88. 226, indicate that Melbourne had

3 In another place he describes it as spontaneously given the king good

an action done * with no sort of reason' reasons for caahiering him and his

(i&. p. 78) . But the Melbourne papers, colleagues.

published hi 1890, pp. 219-221 and

PROPOSAL OF OFFICE 119

minister arrived; the ease is apt to quicken the pulse of CHAP,

even the most serene of politicians, and we may be sure ^

that Mr. Gladstone with the keen vigour of five-and-twenty ^^ gs
tingling in his veins was something more or less than serene.

Dec. 17. — Locke^ and Kussell's Modem Europe in the morn-
ing. Went to meet the post, found a letter from Peel desir-
ing to see me, dated 13tL All haste ; ready by 4 — no place !
Keluctantly deferred till the morning. Wrote to Lincoln, Sir R.
Peel, etc. ... A game of whist. This is a serious call. I got
mj father's advice to take anything with work and responsibility.
IM —Off at 7.40 by mail. I find it a privation to be unable to
read in a coach. The mind is distracted through the senses, and
rambles. Nowhere is it to me so incapable of continuous
thought. . . . Newcastle at 9^ p.m. 19^^. — Same again. At
York at 6 J a.m. to 7. Ran to peep at the minster and bore away
a faint twilight image of its grandeur. 20th, — Arrived safe,
thank God, and well at the Bull and Mouth 5| a.m. Albany
soon. To bed for 2\ hours. Went to Peel about eleven.

He writes to his father the same day —

My interview with him was not more than six or eight minutes,
but be was extremely kind. He told me his letter to me was among
his first ; that he was prompted only by his own feelings towards
me and some moi-e of that kind ; that I might have a seat either
at the admiralty or treasury boards, but the latter was that which
be intended for me ; that I should then be in immediate and con-
fidential communication with himself; and should thereby have
more insight into the general concerns of government; that there
fras a person very anxious for the seat at the treasury, who would
go to the admiralty if I did not ; but that he meant to go upon
the principle of putting every one to the post for which he thought
them most fit, so far as he could, and therefore preferred the ar-
ranjsrement he had named. As he distinctly preferred the treasury
for me, and assigned such reasons for the preference, it appeared
to me that the question was quite settled, and I immediately closed
with his offer. I expressed my gratitude for the opinions of me
which he had expressed ; and said I thought it my duty to men-
tion that the question of my re-election at Newark upon a single

120 THB NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFICE

vacancy had never been put to my friends, and I asked whether I
should consider any part of what he had said as contingent upon
1836 *^® answer I might receive from them. He said no, that he would
willingly take that risk. At first, he thought I had suspicions
about the Duke of Newcastle, and assured me that he would be
much pleased, of which I said I felt quite persuaded. This in-
quiry, however, served the double purpose of discharging my own
duty, and drawing out something about the dissolution. He said
to me, 'You will address your constituents upon vacating your
seat, and acquaint them of your intention to solicit a renewal of
their confidence whenever they are called upon to exercise their
franchise, which I tell you confidenticUlyy^ he added, * will be very
soon.' I would have given a hundred pounds to be then and there
in a position to express my hopes and fears ! But it is, then, you
see certain that we are to have it, and that they will not meet the
present parliament. Most bitterly do I lament it.

Mr. Gladstone at a later date (July 25, 1835) recorded that
he had reason to believe from a conversation with a tory
friend who was in many party secrets, that the Duke of
Wellington set their candidates in motion all over the
country before Sir Robert's return. Active measures, and of
course expense, had so generally begun, so much impatience
for the dissolution had been excited, and the anticipations
had been permitted for so long a time to continue and to
spread, as to preclude the possibility of delay. ^

The appointment of the young member for Newark was
noted at the time as an innovation upon a semi-sacred
social usage. Sir Robert Inglis said to him, ' Tou are about
the youngest lord who was ever placed at the treasury on
his own account, and not because he was his father's son.'
The prime minister, no doubt, rejoiced in finding for the
public service a young man of this high promise, sprung
out of the same class, and bred in the same academic

1 Lord Palmerston doubted (Nov. must be injurious to the principles

26, 1834) whether Peel would dis- that he professes. . . . But he may

solve. * I think his own bias will be overborne by the violent people of

rather be to abide by the decision of his own party whom he will not be

this. House of Commons, and try to able to control.' Ashley's Life of

propitiate it by great professions of Palmerston (1879), i. p. 313.
reform. The effect of a dissolution

SECOND BLBCTION AT NEWABK 121

traditions as his own.^ The youthful minister's path was
happily smoothed at Newark. This time blues and reds
called a grand truce, divided the honours, and returned j£^ 26
Mr. Gladstone and Sergeant Wilde without a contest. The
question that excited most interest in the canvass was the
new poor law. Mr. Gladstone gave the fallen ministers full
credit for their measure. Most of their bilk, he said, were
projected from a mere craving for popularity, but in the
case of the poor law they acted in defiance of the public
press and many of their own friends. On the other hand,
he defended the new government as the government of a
truly reforming party, pointing to the commercial changes
made by Lord Liverpool's administration, to the corpora-
tion and test Acts, and to catholic emancipation. Who
could deny that these were changes of magnitude settled
in peaceful times by a parliament* unref ormed ? Who could
deny that Sir Robert Peel had long been a practical re-
former of the law, and that the Duke of Wellington had
carried out great retrenchments? Let them then rally round
throne and altar, and resist the wild measures of the destruc-
tives. The red hero was drawn through the town by six
greys, with postilions in silk jackets, amid the music of
hands, the clash of bells, and the cheers of the crowd. When
the red procession met the blue, mutual congratulations
took the place of the old insult and defiance, and at five
o'clock each party sat down to its own feast. The reds
drank toasts of a spirited, loyal, and constitutional char-
acter, many admirable speeches were made which the
chronicler regrets that his limits will not allow him to
report, — regrets unshared by us, — and soon after eleven
Mr. Gladstone escaped. After a day at Clumber, he was
speedily on his way to London. 'Off at 10 J p.m. Missed
the High Flyer at Tuxford, broke down in my chaise on
the way to Newark ; no injury, thanks to God. Remained
'2i hours alone; overtaken by the Wellington at 3 J a.m.

* Greyille, on the other hand, board of control, instead of making
2Tumbled at Peel, for taking high him a lord of the treasury, and send-
birth and connections as substitutes ing ' Gladstone, who is a very clever
for other qualities, because he made man,* to the other and more re-
Sidney Herbert secretary at the sponsible i)ost.

122 THE NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFICE

Arrived in London (Jan. 8) before 8 P.M. Good travelling.'
On reckoning up bis movements be finds tbat, tbough not
1835. *^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ travelling for tbe sake of going from place to
place, be bas bad in 1834 quite 2400 miles of it.

Before tbe dissolution, Sir H. Hardinge bad told bim
tbat tbe conservatives would not be over 340 nor under
300, but by tbe middle of tbe month tbings looked less
prosperous. Tbe reaction against tbe wbigs bad not yet
reacbed full flood, tbe royal dismissal of tbe administration
was unpopular, moderate people more especially in Scotland
could not stand a government wbere tbe Duke of Welling-
ton, tbe symbol of a benigbted and stubborn toryism, was
seen over Peel's sboulder. *At present,' Mr. Gladstone
writes, ' tbe case is, even in my view, bopef ul ; in tbat of
most bere it is more. And certainly, to bave tbis very
privilege of entertaining a deliberate and reasonable bope,
to tbink tbat notwithstanding tbe ten pound clause, a
moderate parliament may be returned; in fine, to believe
tbat we bave now some prospect of surviving tbe Reform
bill without a bloody revolution, is to me as surprising as
delightful; it seems to me tbe greatest and most provi-
dential mercy with which a nation was ever visited.
. . . To-day I am going to dine with the lord chancellor
[Lyndburst], having received a card to tbat efiEect last
night.'

It was at tbis dinner that Mr. Gladstone had his first
opportunity of making a remarkable acquaintance. In his
diary he mentions as present three of the judges, the flower
of the bench, as be supposes, but he says not a word of
the man of the strangest destiny there, the author of
Vivian Chrey, Disraeli himself, in a letter to his sister,
names * young Gladstone,' and others, but condemns the
feast as rather dull, and declares that a swan very white
and tender, and stuffed with truffles, was the best company
at tbe table. What Mr. Gladstone carried away in his
memory was a sage lesson of Lyndburst's, by which the
two men of genius at his table were in time to show
themselves extremely competent to profit, — 'Never defend
yourself before a popular assemblage, except with and by

CHANOB OF OFFICE 123

retorting the attack; the hearers, in the pleasure which chap.

the assault gives them« will forget the previous charge.' ^ ^' ,

As Disraeli himself put it afterwards, Never complain and ^7.26.
never eocplain.

One afternoon, a few days later, while he was grappling
at the treasury with a file of papers on the mysteries of
superannuation, Mr. Gladstone was again summoned by the
prime minister, and again (Jan. 26) he writes to his father : —

I have had an important interview with Sir K. Peel, the
result of which is that I am to be under-secretary for the colo-
nies. I will give you a hurried and imperfect sketch of the
conversation. He began by saying he was about to make a great
sacrifice both of his own feelings and convenience, but that what
he had to say he hoped would be gratifying to me, as a mark
of his confidence and regard. * I am going to propose to you,
Gladstone, that you should be, for you know Wortley has lost his
election, under-secretary of state for the colonies, and I give
Tou my word that I do not know six offices which are at this
moment of greater importance than that to which is attached
the representation of the colonial depai-tment in the House of
Commons, at a period when so many questions of importance
are in agitation.' I expressed as well as I could, and indeed it
was but ill, my imfeigned and deep sense of his kindness, my
hesitation to form any opinion of my own competency for the
office, and at the same time my general desire not to shrink from
any responsibility which he might think proper to lay upon me.
He said that was the right and manly view to take. . . . He
adrerted to my connection with the West Indies as likely to give
satisfaction to persons dependent on those colonies, and thought
that others would not be displeased. In short, I cannot go
through it all, but I can only say that if I had always heard of
him that he was the warmest and freest person of all living
in the expression of his feelings, such description would have
been fully borne out by his demeanour to me. When I came away
he took my hand and said, * Well^ God bless you, ivherever yon are'

124 THE NEW CONSSBYATIBH AND OFEICB

From Sir Robert the new nnder-secretaiy made his way, in
fear and trembling, to his new chief, Lord Aberdeen.

lSd5. Distinction of itself naturally and properly rather alarms the
young. I had heard of his high character ; but I had also heard
of him as a man of cold manners, and close and even haughty
reserve. It was dark when I entered his room, so that I saw his
figure rather than his countenance. I do not recollect the matter
of the conversation, but I well remember that, before I had been
three minutes with him, all my apprehensions had melted away
like snow in the sun. I came away from that interview conscious
indeed of his dignity, but of a dignity so tempered by a peculiar
purity and gentleness, and so associated with impressions of his
kindness and even friendship, that I believe I thought more about
the wonder of his being at that time so misunderstood by the
outer world, than about the new duties and responsibilities of my
oflBce.^

Time only deepened these impressions. It is not hard
for a great party chief to win the affection and regard of
his junior colleague, and where good fortune has brought
together a congenial pair, no friendship outside the home
can be more valuable, more delightful, alike to veteran and
to tiro. Of all the host of famous or considerable men with
whom he was to come into official and other relations, none
ever, as we shall see, held the peculiar place in Mr. Glad-
stone's esteem and reverence of the two statesmen under
whose auspices he now first entered the enchanted circle of
public office. The promotion was a remarkable stride. He
was only five-and-twenty, his parliamentary existence had
barely covered two years, and he was wholly without poweiv
ful family connection. ' You are aware,' Peel wrote to John
Gladstone, ' of the sacrifice I have made of personal feeling
to public duty, in placing your son in one of the most
important offices — that of representative of the colonial
department in the House of Commons, and thus relinquish-
ing his valuable aid in my own immediate department.
Wherever he may be placed, he is sure to distinguish

himself.'^

1 Lord Stanmore's Earl of Aberdeen (1893), p. m.
•^ Parker's Peel, ii. p. 267.

POSITION OF GOVERNMENT 125

III

Mr. Gladstone's first spell of office was little more than chap.
momentary. The liberal majority, as has so often happened, ^'•
was composite, but Peel can hardly have supposed that the ^ ^
sections of which it was made up would fail to coalesce, and
coalesce pretty soon, for the irresistible object of ejecting
ministers who were liked by none of them, and through
whose repulse they could strike an avenging blow against
the king. Ardent subalterns like Mr. Gladstone took more
vehement views. The majority at once beat the government
(supported by the group of Stanleyites, fifty-three strong) in
the contest for the Speaker's chair. Other repulses followed.
* The division,' writes Mr. Gladstone to his father, with the
honourable warmth of the young party man, ' I need not say
was a disappointment to me ; but it must have been much
more so to those who have ever thought well of the parlia-
ment. Our party mustered splendidly. Some few, but very,
very few, of the others appear to have kept away through
a sense of decency ; they had not virtue enough to vote for
the man whom they knew to be incomparably the best,
and against whom they had no charge to bring. No more
shameful act I think has been done by a British House of
Commons.'

Not many days after fervently deprecating a general
resignation, an ill-omened purpose of this very course
actually flitted across the mind of the young under-
secretary himself. A scheme was on the anvil for the
education of the blacks in the West Indies, and a sudden
apprehension startled Mr. Gladstone, that his chief might
devote public funds to all varieties of denominational
religious teaching. Any plan of that kind would be
utterly opposed to what with him, as we shall soon dis-
cover, was then a fundamental principle of national polity.
Happily the fatal leap was not needed, but if either small
men like the government whips, or great men like Peel and
Aberdeen, could have known what was passing, they would
have shaken grave heads over this spirit of unseasonable
scruple at the very start of the race in a brilliant man with
all his life before him.

126 THB NEW GOKS£BVATISM AND OFFICE

Feb. 4 or 6. — Charles Canning told me Peel had offered him the
vacant lordship of the treasury, through his mother. They were,
1835. ^® Q^^, very much gratified with the manner in which it had been
done, though the offer was declined, upon the ground stated in
the reply, that though he did not anticipate any discrepancy in
political sentiments to separate him from the present government,
yet he should prefer in some sense deserving an official station by
parliamentary conduct. . . . Peel's letter was written at some
length, very friendly, without any statesmanlike reserve or
sensitive attention to nicety of style. In the last paragraph it
spoke with amiable embarrassment of Mr. Canning ; stating that
his ' respect, regard, and admiration ' (I think even), apparently
interrupted by circumstances, continued fresh and vivid, and that
those very circumstances made him more desirous of thus publicly
testifying his real sentiments.

March 30. — Wished to speak on Irish church. No oppor-
tunity. Wrote on it. A noble-minded speech from Sir J.
Graham. March 31. — Spoke on the Irish church — under forty
minutes. I cannot help here recording that this matter of speak-
ing is really my strongest religious exercise. On all occasions,
and to-day especially, was forced upon me the humiliating sense
of my inability to exercise my reason in the face of the H. of C,
and of the necessity of my utterly failing, unless God gave me the
strength and language. It was after all a poor performance, but
would have been poorer had He never been in my thoughts as a
present and powerful aid. But this is what I am as yet totally
incompetent to effect — to realise, in speaking, anything, however
small, which at all satisfies my mind. Debating seems to me less
difficult, though unattained. But to hold in serene contemplative
action the mental faculties in the turbid excitement of debate, so
as to see truth clearly and set it forth such as it is, this I cannot
attain to.

As regards my speech in the Irish church debate, he tells
his father (April 2), it was received by the House, and has
been estimated, in a manner extremely gratifying to me. As
regards satisfaction to myself in the manner of its execution, I
cannot say so much. Backed by a numerous and warm-hearted
party, and strong in the consciousness of a good cause, I did not

MINISTERS DEFEATED 127

find it difficult to grapple with the more popular parts of the CHAP,
question ; but I fell miserably short of my desires in touching ^^
upon the principles which the discussion involved, and I am sure j^ 26
that it must be long before I am enabled in any reasonable sense
to be a speaker according even to the conception which I have
formed in my own mind.

A few days later, he received the congratulations of a
royal personage : —

In the evening, dining at Lord Salisbury's, I was introduced to
the Duke of Cumberland, who was pleased to express himself
faTourably of my speech. He is fond of conversation, and the
common reputation which he bears of including in his conversation
many oaths, appears to be but too true. Yet he said he had made
a point of sending his son to George the Fourth's funeral, think-
ing it an excellent advantage for a boy to receive the impression
which such a scene was calculated to convey. The duke made many
acute remarks, and was, I should say, most remarkably unaffected
and kind. These are fine social qualities for a prince, though^
of course, not the most important — ' My dear Sir,' and thumps on
the shoulder after a ten minutes' acquaintance. He spoke broadly
and freely — much on the disappearance of the bishops' wigs, which
he said had done more harm to the church than anything else !

On the same night the catastrophe happened. After a
protracted and complex struggle Lord John Russell's pro-
posal for the appropriation of the surplus revenues of the
Irish church was carried against ministers. The following
day Peel announced his resignation.

Though his official work had been unimportant, Mr. Glad-
stone had left an excellent impression behind him among
the permanent men. When he first appeared in the oflSce,
Henry Taylor said, ' I rather like Gladstone, but he is said
to have more of the devil in him than appears.' A few weeks
were enough to show him that 'Gladstone was far the most
considerable of the rising generation, having besides his
abilities an excellent disposition and great strength of
character.' James Stephen thought well of him, but doubted
if he had pugnacity enough for public life.

128 THE NEW CONSERVATISM AND OFFIOE

A few days later Mr. Gladstone dined with an official
party at the fallen minister's : —

1835. Sir R. Peel made a^ very nice speech on Lincoln's proposing
and our drinking his health. The following is a slight and bad
sketch : — 'I really can hardly call you gentlemen alone. I would
rather address you as my warm and attached friends in whom I
have the fullest confidence, and with whom it has afforded me
the greatest satisfaction to be associated during the struggle which
has just been brought to a close. In undertaking the govern-
ment, from the first I have never expected to succeed ; 'still it
was my conviction that good might be done, and I trust that
good has been effected. I believe we have shown that even if a
conservative government be not strong enough to carry on the
public affairs of this country, at least we are so strong that we
ought to be able to prevent any other government from doing
any serious mischief to its institutions. We meet now as we met
at the beginning of the session, then perhaps in somewhat finer
dresses, but not, I am sure, with kindlier feelings towards each
other.'

The rest of the session Mr. Gladstone passed in his usual
pursuits, reading all sorts of books, from the correspondence of
Leibnitz with Bossuet, and Alexander Knox's BemainSy down
to Rousseau's Confessions. As to the last of these he scarcely
knew whether to read on or to throw it aside, and, in fact,
he seems only to have persevered with that strange romance
of a wandering soul for a day or two. Besides promiscuous
reading, he performed some scribbling, including a sonnet,
recorded in his diary with notes of wondering exclamation.
His family were in London for most of May, his mother
in bad health; no other engagement ever interrupted his
sedulous attendance on her every day, reading the Bible
to her, and telling the news about levees and drawing-
rooms, a great dinner at Sir Robert Peel's, and all the rest
of his business and recreations. In the House he did little
between the fall of the ministry and the close of the session.
He once wished to speak, but was shut out by the length of
other speeches. * So,' he moralises, * I had two useful lessons
instead of one. For the sense of helplessness which always

SPEECH AT NEWARK 129

possesses me in prospect of a speech is one very useful lesson ;
and being disappointed after having attained some due state
of excitement and anticipation is another.' jet"25.

In June at a feast at Newark, which, terrible to relate,
lasted from four o'clock to eleven, Mr. Gladstone gave them
nearly an hour, not to mention divers minor speeches. His
father * expressed himself with beautiful and affectionate
truth of feeling, and the party sympathised.' His own
speech deserves to be noted as indicating the political
geography for three or four years to come. The standing
dish of the tory opposition of the period was highly-spiced
reproach of the ministers for living on the support of
O'Connell, and Newark was regaled with an ample meal.
Mr. Gladstone would not enter into a detail of the exploits,
character, political opinions of that Irish gentleman; he
would rather say what he thought of him in his presence than
in his absence, because he could unfortunately say nothing
of him but what was bad. * This is not the first period in
English history,' Mr. Gladstone noted down at that time,
4n which a government has leaned on the Roman catholic
interest in Ireland for support. Under the administration
of Strafford and at the time of the Scotch revolt, Charles I.
was enthusiastically supported by the recusants of the sister
isle, and what was the effect ? The religious sympathies of
tlie people were touched then and they were so now with
tlie same consequence, in the gradual decline of the party
to whom the suspicion attaches in popular fervour and
estimation.' Half a century later he may have recalled this
early fruit of historic observation. Meanwhile, in his Newark
speech, he denounced the government for seeking to undo
the mischief of the Irish alliance by systematic agitation.
But it was upon the church question, far deeper and more
vital than municipal corporations, that the fate of the
government should be decided. Then followed a vindi-
cation of the church in Ireland. ' The protestant faith is
hM good for us, and what is good for us is also good for
th^ population of Ireland!' That most disastrous of all our
false commonplaces was received at Newark, as it has been
received so many hundreds of times ever since all over

VOL. I — K

180 THE NBW OONSBBVATISM Ain> OFFICB

England, with loud and long^ontinued cheering, to be
invariably followed in after act and event with loud and
^^ long-continued groaning.^ Four years later Mr. Gladstone
heard words from Lord John Russell on this point, that
began to change his mind. ^ Often do I think,' he wrote to
Lord Russell in 1870, ' of a saying of yours more than thirty
years back which struck me ineffaceably at the time. You
said: ^^The true key to our Irish debates was this: that it
was not properly borne in mind that as England is inhabited
by Englishmen, and Scotland by Scotchmen, so Ireland is
inhabited by Irishmen.'"*

1 0*Connell paid Newark a short it much as they had been before his

visit in 1886 — spoke against Mr. arrival.

Gladstone for an hour in the open air, > Walpole, Ltfe of Lord John

and then left the town, both he and Bussell, it p. 456.

CHAPTER III

PROGRESS IK PUBLIC LIFE

{18S5-18S8)

Les hommeB en tout ne s^telairent que par le tfttonnement de
Texp^enoe. Les plus grands g^nies sont euz-m§mes entrainds par
leur si^e. — Turcot.

Men are only enlightened by feeling their way through experience.
The greatest geniuses are themselves drawn along by their age.

Ix September (1886), after long suffering, his mother died chap.
amid tender care and mournful regrets. Her youngest son ^^ ^
was a devoted nurse ; her loss struck him keenly, but with j^^ ge.
a sense full of the consolations of his faith. To Gaskell he
writes: *How deeply and thoroughly her character was
imbued with love; with what strong and searching pro-
cesses of bodily affliction she was assimilated in mind and
heart to her Redeemer ; how above all other things she sighed
for the advancement of His kingdom on earth; how few
mortals suffered more pain, or more faithfully recognised it
as one of the instruments by which God is pleased to forward
that restoring process for which we are placed on earth.'

Then the world resumed its course for him, and things
fell into their wonted ways of indefatigable study. His
scheme for week-days included Blackstone, Mackintosh,
Aristotle's Politics — 'a book of immense value for all
governors and public men' — Dante's Purgatorio^ Spanish
grammar, Tocqueville, Fox's JameB IL^ by which he was
disappointed, not seeing such an acuteness in extracting
and exhibiting the principles that govern from beneath the
actions of men and parties, nor such a grasp of generalisa-
tion, nor such a faculty of separating minute from material
jiarticulars, nor such an abstraction from a debater's modes
of thought and forms of expression, as he should have

131

132 PBOOBESS IN PUBLIC LIFS

hoped. To these he added as he went along the O-Snie du
ChristianUme^ Bolingbroke, Bacon's E%say%^ Don Quixote^
1836. ^^® Annals of Tacitus, Le Bas' Life of Laud ('somewhat
too Laudish, though right an fond'* ; unlike Lawson's Lavd^
^a most intemperate book, the foam swallows up all the
facts'), Childe Harold^ Jerusalem Delivered ('beautiful in
its kind, but how can its author be placed in the same
category of genius as Dante?'), Pollok's Course of Time
Q much talent, little culture, insufficient power to digest and
construct his subject or his versification ; his politics radical,
his religious sentiments genei'ally sound, though perhaps
hard').

In the evenings he read aloud to his father the Faery
Qu^en and Shakespeare. On Sundays he read Chillingworth
and Jewel, and, above all, he dug and delved in St. Augus-
tine. He drew a sketch of a project touching Peculiarities
in Religion. For several days he was writing something
on politics. Then an outline or an essay on our colonial
system. For he was no reader of the lounging, sauntering,
passively receptive species; he went forward in a sedulous
process of import and export, a mind actively at work on all
the topics that passed before it.

At the beginning of the year 1836 he was invited to pay
a visit to Drayton, where he found only Lord Harrowby —
a link with the great men of an earlier generation, for he
had acted as Pitt's second in the duel with Tierney, and had
been foreign secretary in Pitt's administration of 1804;
might have been prime minister in 1827 if he had liked;
and he headed the Waverers who secured the passing of the
Reform bill by the Lords. Other guests followed, the host
rather contracting in freedom of conversation as the party
expanded.^

I cannot record anything continuous, Mr. Gladstone writes in
his memorandum of the visit, but commit to paper several opin-
ions and expressions of Sir R. Peel, which bore upon interesting
and practical questions. That Fox was not a man of settled, reas-
oned, political principle. Lord Harrowby added that he was thrown

1 Parker's Peel, ii. p. 321.

VISIT TO DBAYTON 138

into opposition and whiggism by the insult of Lord North. That CHAP.
his own doctrines, both as originally declared, and as resumed ^^
when finally in office, were of a highly toned spirit of government. ^^ 27
That Brougham was the most powerful man he had ever known in
the H. of G. ; that no one had ever fallen so fast and so far. That
the political difficulties of England might be susceptible of cure,
and were not appalling ; but that the state of Ireland was to
all appearance hopeless. That there the great difficulty lay in
procuring the ordinary administration of justice ; that the very
institution of juries supposed a common interest of the juror
and the state, a condition not fulfilled in the present instance ;
that it was quite unfit for the present state of society in Ireland.
Lord Harrowby thought that a strong conservative government
might still quell agitation. And Sir E. Peel said Stanley had
told him that the whig government were on the point of suc-
ceeding in putting a stop to the resistance to payment of tithe,
when Lord Althorp, alarmed at the expense already incurred,
wrote to stop its collection by the military. We should proba-
bly live to see the independence of Poland established.

The Duke of Wellington and others arrived later in the day.
It was pleasing to see the deference with which he was received
as he entered the library ; at the sound of his name everybody
nxse ; he is addressed by all with a respectful manner. He met
Peel most cordially, and seized both Lady Peel's hands. I now
recollect that it was with glee Sir R. Peel said to me on Monday,
'I am glad to say you will meet the duke here,' which had
reference, I doubt not, partly to the anticipated pleasure of see-
ing him, partly to the dissipation of unworthy suspicions. He
reported that government are still labouring at a church measure
without appropriation. Jan, 20. — The Duke of Wellington
appears to speak little ; and never for speaking's sake, but only
to convey an idea, commonly worth conveying. He receives
remarks made to him very frequently with no more than * Ha,'
a convenient, suspensive expression, which acknowledges the
arrival of the observation and no more. Of the two days which
ise spent here he hunted on Thursday, shot on Friday, and
to-day travelled to Strathfieldsay, more, I believe, than 100 miles,
to entertain a party of friends to dinner. With this bodily

134 PBOGBE8S IN PUBLIC UFE

exertion he mixes at 66 or 67 a constant attention to business.
Sir B. Peel mentioned to me to-night a very remarkable example
1836 ^^ ^^* C^® duke's] perhaps excessive precision. Whenever he signs
a draft on Coutts's^ he addresses to them at the same time a note
apprising them that he has done so. This perfect facility of
transition from one class of occupation to their opposites, and
their habitual intermixture without any apparent encroachments •
on either side, is, I think, a very remarkable evidence of self-
command, and a mental power of singular utility. Sir Bobert is
also, I conceive, a thrifty dealer with his time, but in a man of
his age [Peel now 48] this is less beyond expectation.

He said good-bye on the last night with regret. In the
midst of the great company he found time to read Bossuet
on Variations, remarking rather oddly, ' some of Bossuet's
theology seems to me very good.'

On Jan. 30th is the entry of his journey from Liverpool, ' 1 to
4 to Hawarden Castle.' [I suppose his first visit to his future
home.] Got to Chester (Feb. 1) five minutes after the mail had
started. Got on by Albion. Outside all night; frost; rain;
arrived at Albany llf. Feb, Uh, — Session opens. Voted in.
243-284. A good opportunity for speaking, but in my weakness
did not use it. Feb, ^th, — Stanley made a noble speech.
Voted in 243 to 307 for abolition of Irish corporations. Pen--
dulums and Nothingarians all against us. Sunday. — Wrot^
on Hypocrisy. On Worship. Attempted to explain this tc^
the servants at night. Newman's Sermons and J. Taylor-
Trench's Poems. March 2nd. — Read to my deep sorrow of
Anstice's death on Monday. His friends, his young widow,
the world can spare him ill; so says at least the flesh*
Stapleton. Paradiso, vii. viii. Calls. Rode. Wrote. Dined
at Lord Ashburton's. House. Statistical Society's Proceed^
ings. Verses on Anstice's death. March 22nd. — House 5^9 J—
Spoke 50 minutes [on negro apprenticeship ; see p. 145] ; kindly
heard, and I should thank God for being made able to speal^
even thus indifferently.^ March 2Srd. . . . Late, having beei:*

^ The Standard marks it ' as a bril- of the few gems that have illuminate^
llant and triumphant argument — one the reformed House of Commons.*

MIXED AVOCATIONS 185

awake last night till between 4 and 5^ as usual after speaking.
How useful to make us feel the habitual unremembered bless-
ing of sound sleep. . . . Jpril 7th. — Chrus. Lib, c. xi. . . . jg^ 21
Dr. Pusey here from 12 to 3 about church building. Kode.
At night 11 to 2 perusing Henry Taylor's proofs of The
Statemnanf and writing notes on it, presumptuous enough* . . .
Oenis, xiL Be-perused Taylor's sheets. A batch of calls. Wrote
letters. Bossuet Dined at Henry Taylor's, a keen intellectual
exercise, and thus a place of danger, especially as it is exercise
seen. . . . 9th, — Spedding at breakfast. Gems. xiii. Finished
Locke on Understanding. It appears to me on the whole a much
OTcrrated, though, in some respects, a very useful book. . . .
May 16th. — Mr. Wordsworth, H. Taylor, and Doyle to break-
fast Sat till 12f . Conversation on Shelley, Trench, Tennyson ;
travelling, copyright, etc. 30^^. — Milnes, Blakesley, Taylor, Cole,
to breakfast Church meeting at Archbishop of Armagh's. Ancient
mnsic rehearsal. House 6-8 J and 94-12. June 1st, — Read Words-
worth. . . . House 5-12. Spoke about45minutes [on Tithes and
Choich (Ireland) bill]. I had this pleasure in my speech, that I
never rose more intent upon telling what I believe to be royal truth ;
though I did it very ill, and further than ever below the idea which
I would nevertheless hold before my mind. 3rd. — West Indies
Committee 1-4. Finished writing out my speech and sent it. Read
Wordsworth. . . . Saw Sir R. Peel. Dined at Sergeant Talf ourd's
to meet Wordsworth. . . . 5th, — St. James's, Communion. Dined
at Lincola's Inn. St. Sepulchre's. Wrote. Jer. Taylor, Newman.
Began Nicole's Pr^jug^. Arnold aloud. Sth. — Wordsworth, since
ie has been in town, has breakfasted twice and dined once with
me. Intercourse with him is, upon the whole, extremely pleasing.
I was sorry to hear Sydney Smith say that he did not see very
much in him, nor greatly admire his poems. He even adverted
to the London Sonnet as ridiculous. Sheil thought this of the

line:

* Dear God ! the very houses seem asleep.'

1 ventured to call his attention to that which followed as carrying
out the idea :

* And all that mighty heart is lying still.'

I Of which I may say omne tulit punctum.

186 PROGRESS IN PUBLIC jlul^^

Wordsworth came in to breakfast the other day before hia time.
I asked him to excuse me while I had my servant to prayers ; but
1886 ^^ expressed a Jiearty wish to be present, which was delightful. He
has laboured long ; if for himself , yet more for men, and over all
I trust for God. Will he ever be the bearer of evil thoughts to
any mind ? Glory is gathering round his later years on earth, and
his later works especially indicate the spiritual ripening of his
noble soul. I heard but few of his opinions ; but these are some
He was charmed with Trench's poems; liked Alford; thought
Shelley had the greatest native powers in poetry of all the men of
this age. In reading Die Braut von Korinth translated, was more
horrified than enchained, or rather altogether the first Won-
dered how any one could translate it or the Faust, but spoke as
knowing the original. Thought little of Murillo as to the mind
of painting; said he could not have painted Paul Veronese's
< Marriage of Cana.' Considered that old age in great measure
disqualified him by its rigid fixity of habits from judging of the
works of young poets — I must say that he was here even over
liberal in self-depreciation. He defended the make of the steam-
boat as more poetical than otherwise to the eye (see Sonnets ^).
Thought Coleridge admired Ossian only in youth, and himself
admired the spirit which Macpherson professes to embody.

Sergeant Talfourd dined here to meet Wordsworth yesterday.
Wordsworth is vehement against Byron. Saw in Shelley the
lowest form of irreligion, but a later progress towards better
things. Named the discrepancy between his creed and his imag-
ination as the marring idea of his works, in which description
I could not concur. Spoke of the entire revolution in his own
poetical taste. We were agreed that a man's personal character
ought to be the basis of his politics. He quoted his sonnet on the
contested election [what sonnet is this ?], from which I ventured
to differ as regards its assuming nutriment for the heart to be
inherent in politics. He described to me his views ; that the
Reform Act had, as it were, brought out too prominently a
particular muscle of the national frame: the strength of the
towns ; that the cure was to be found in a large further enf ran-

1 ^ Motions and Means on Land and Sea at War/ v. 248. Steamboats,
Viaducts, and Railways.

MIXED AVOCATIONS 187

chisement, I fancy, of the country chiefly ; that you would thus
extend the base of your pyramid and so give it strength. He
wished the old institutions of the country preserved, and thought jg/g?
this the way to preserve them. He thought the political franchise
upon the whole a good to the mass — regard being had to the
state of human nature ; against me. lUh. — Eead Browning's
Paracelsus. Went to Richmond to dine with the Gaskells. A
two hours' walk home at night. 16th. — Wrote two sonnets.
Finished and wrote out Braut von Korinth, Shall I ever dare
to make out a counterpart ? 2l8t. — Breakfast at Mr. Hallam's
to meet Mr. Wordsworth and Mr. Rogers. Wordsworth spoke
much and justly about copyright. Conversation with Talfourd in
the evening, partly about that subject Began something on ego-
tism. 2^h. — Breakfast with Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wordsworth only
there. Very agreeable. Rogers produced an American poem,
the death of Bozzaris, which Wordsworth proposed that I should
read to them : of course I declined, so even did Rogers. But
Wordsworth read it through in good taste, and doing it justice.

Pasque in time for Aug. 12 ; out on the hill, but unlucky with
a sprained ankle, and obliged to give up early. Aug, 15th, —
Wrote Qong) to Dr. Chalmers. Orator. Sept, 20th, — Milner,
finished Vol. ii. Cic. Acad, Wraxall. Began Goethe's Iphigenie,
Wrote. Ckt, 1th, — Milner. Wraxall. A dinner-party. Wrote out
a sketch for an essay ou Justification. Singing, whist, shooting.
Copied a paper for my father. 12th, — A day on the hill for roe.
14 guns. [To Liverpool for public dinner at the Amphitheatre.]
ISfA. — Most kindly heard. Canning's d^but everything that could
be desired. I thought I spoke 35 minutes, but afterwards found it
'^as 00. Read Marco Visconti, 21st. — Operative dinner at Amphi-
theatre. Spoke perhaps 16 or 18 minutes. 2Sth, — Haddo [Lord
Aberdeen's]. Finished Marco Visconti, a long bout, but I could not
let it go. Bucklaud's opening chapters. Om ^/i6 tt'^oZe satisfactory.
.%^ — Lord Aberdeen read prayers in the evening with simple and
Ernest pathos. Nov. 10th, — Wilhelm MeiMer, Book i., and there I
niean to leave it, unless I hear a better report of the succeeding one
than I could make of the first. Next day, recommenced with great
anticipations of delight the Divina Commedia. 13th, — Finished

Nicole De V Unite, August. De Civ, [Every day at this time.]

188 PBOGBE8S IN PUBUO LIFB

19tft. — Began Cicero's Tusculan Questions. . . . 2G0l — Aug. Oiv.
Dei, I am now in Book xiv. Cic. Tusc. finished. Book IL
-^_ Furgatorio, iii.-v. A dose of whist. Still snow and rain.
26th. — Aug. Cicero. Billiards. Purgatorio, vi.-viiL Began Dry-
den's Fables. My eyes are not in their best plight, and I am
obliged to consider type a little. Jan. 3rd, 1837. — Breakfasted
with Dr. Chalmers. How kind my father is in small matters as
well as great — thoughtfully sending carriage. ISth^ Glasgow. —
The pavilion astonishing, and the whole effect very grand. Near
3500. Sir R. Peel spoke 1 h. 55 m. Explicit and bold ; it was
a very great effort. I kept within 15 min. — quite long enough.
Uth. — 7^-5| mail to Carlisle. On all night. 15th. Wetherby at
7|. Leeds lOJ. Church there. Walked over to Wakefield. Church
there. Evening at Thomes. [Milnes GaskelPs.] 17th. — To
Newark. Very good meeting. Spoke J hour.

In this speech, after the regulation denunciation of the
reckless wickedness of O'Connell, he set about demonstrating
the change that had taken place in the character of public
feeling during the last few years. He pointed out that at
the dissolution of 1831 the conservative members of the
House of Commons amounted perhaps to 60. In 1835 thejr
saw this small dispirited band grow into a resolute and
formidable phalanx of 300. The cry was : ' Resolute attach-
ment to the institutions of the country.' One passage in
the speech is of interest in the history of his attitude on
toleration. Sir William Molesworth had been invited to
come forward as candidate for the representation of Leeds.
A report spread that Sir William was not a believer in the
Christian articles of faith. Somebody wrote to Molesworth,
to know if this was true. He answered, that the question
whether he was a believer in the Christian religion was
one that no man of liberal principles ought to propose to
another, or could propose without being guilty of a dereliction
of duty. On this incident, Mr. Gladstone said that he* would
ask, ^ Is it not a time for serious reflection among moderate
and candid men of all parties, when such a question was
actually thought impertinent interference? Surely they
would say with him, that men who have no belief in the

PARTY COUNCILS 139

diyine revelation are not the men to govern this nation,
be they whigs or radicals.' Long, extraordinary, and not
inglorious, was the ascent from such a position as this, to ^s^^28.
the principles so nobly vindicated in the speech on the
Affirmation bill in 1883.

At the end of January he is back in London, arranging
books and papers and making a little daylight in his chaos.
^What useful advice might a man who has been btionpezzo
in parliament give to one going into it, on this mechanical
portion of his business.' The entries for 1837 are none of
them especially interesting. Every day in the midst of full
parliamentary work, social engagements, and public duties
oatside of the House of Commons, he was elaborating the
treatise on the relations of church and state, of which we
shall see more in our following chapter. At the beginning
of the session he went to a dinner at Peel's, at which Lord
Stanley and some of his friends were present — a circumstance
noted as a sign of the impending fusion between the whig
secedere of 1834 and the conservative party. Sir Robert
seems to have gone on extending his confidence in him.

I visited Sir Robert Peel (March 4tb) about the Canada question,
and again by appointment T)n the 6th, with Lord Aberdeen. On
the former day he said, * Is there anyone else to invite ? ' I suggested
Lord Stanley. He said, perhaps he might be inclined to take
a separate view. But in the interval he had apparently thought
otherwise. For on Monday he read to Lord Aberdeen and myself
a letter from Stanley written with the utmost frankness and in a
tone of political intimacy, saying that an engagement as chairman
of a committee at the House would prevent his meeting us. The
business of the day was discussed in conversation, and it was
agreed to be quite impossible to support the resolution on the
legislative council in its existing terms, without at least a protest.
Peel made the following remark : ' You have got another Ireland
growing up in every colony you possess.'

A week later he was shocked by the death of Lady Canning.
'Breakfast with Gaskell ' (March 23rd), * and thence to Lady
Canning's funeral in Westminster Abbey. We were but

140 PROGRESS IN PUBLIC UFB

eleven in attendance. Her coffin was laid on that of her illi
trious husband. Canning showed a deep but manly sorro^
1887. ^*y w® ^^® ^ '^y ^^^ ^^^® ^^ * grave and looking in.'

In the same month he spoke on Canada (March 8th) ^ wi
insufficient possession of the subject,' and a week later <
church rates, for an hour or more, * with more success ths
the matter or manner deserved.' He finished his translati<
of the Bride of Corinth, and the episode of Ugolino fro
Dante, and read Eckermann's Conversations toith Q-oet)
to which he gives the too commonplace praise of beii
very interesting. He learned Manzoni's noble ode on tl
death of Napoleon, of which he by-and-by made a nob
translation; this by way of sparing his eyes, and Italic
poetry not taking him nearly half the time of any other
commit to memory. He found a 'beautiful and powerf
production ' in Channing's letter to Clay, and he mac
the acquaintance of Southey, 'in appearance benignar
melancholy, and intellectual.'

n
In June King William iv. died, ' leaving a perilous lega<
to his successor.' A month later (July 14) Mr. Gladstoi
went up with the Oxford address, and this was, I suppos
the first occasion on which he was called to present hii
self before the Queen, with whose long reign his own futu
career and fame were destined to be so closely and so co
spicuously associated. According to the old law prescribir
a dissolution of parliament within six months of the demi
of the crown, Mr. Gladstone was soon in the thick of a ge
eral election. By July 17th he was at Newark, canvassin
speaking, hand-shaking, and in lucid intervals readii
Filicaja. He found a very strong, angry, and general sent
ment, not against the principle of the poor law as regar
the able-bodied, but against the regulations for separatii
man and wife, and sending the old compulsorily to tl
workhouse, with others of a like nature. With the d
approbation on these heads he in great part concurre
There was to be no contest, but arrangements of this kii
still leave room for some anxiety, and in Mr. Gladstone

THB GENERAL ELECTION OF 1837 141

case a singular thing happened. Two days after his arrival chap.
at Newark he was followed by a body of gentlemen from ^ ^^^ ^
Manchester, with an earnest invitation that he would be a j^^ 28.
candidate for that great town. He declined the invitation,
absolutely as he supposed, but the Manchester tories nomi-
nated him notwithstanding'. They assured the electora that
he was the most promising young statesman of the day.
The whigs on the other hand vowed that he was an insulter
of dissent, a bigot of such dark hue as to wish to subject
even the poor negroes of his father's estates to the slavery
of a dominant church, a man who owed whatever wealth
and consequence his family possessed to the crime of hold-
ing his fellow-creatures in bondage, a man who, though
honest and consistent, was a member of that small ultra-tory
minority which followed the Duke of Cumberland. When
the votes were counted, Mr. Gladstone was at the bottom
of the poll, with a majority of many hundreds against
him.'

Meantime he was already member for Newark. His
own election was no sooner over than he caught the last
vacant place on the mail to Carlisle, whence he hastened
to the aid of his father's patriotic labours as candidate for
Dundee. Here he worked hard at canvassing and meetings,
often pelted with mud and stones, but encouraged by friends
more buoyant than the event justified.

Aug. 1st. — My father beaten after all, our promised votes in
many cases going back or going against us. . . . Two hundred
promises broken. Poll closed at Parnell, 666; Gladstone, 381.
It is not in human approbation that the reward of right action
is to be sought. Left at 4^ amid the hisses of the crowd.
Perth at 7 J. Left at one in the morning for Glasgow. 2nd. —
Glasgow 8A-. Steamer at 11. Breeze; miserably sick ; deck all
night. 3rd. — Arrived at Hi ; (Liverpool), very sore. Ath. — Out
at 8J^ to vote for S. Lancavshire. Acted as representative in the
booth half the day. Results of election excellent. 5th. — Again
at the booths. A great victory here. 6th. — Wrote to Manning
on the death of his wife. 0th. — Manchester. Public dinner at 6 ;

1 Thomaon, 4127 ; PhUips, 3759 ; Gladstone, 2324.

142

PB0GBB8S IK PUBUO LIFB

BOOK lasted till near 12. Music excellent. Spoke l^hourS| I am told,

II

proh pudor I ^

1837. Back at Fasque, only a day too late for the Twelfth,
he found the sport bad and he shot badly, but he enjoyed
the healthful walks on the hill. His employments were
curiously mixed. ' Sept. 8th. — In the bog for snipe with Sir
J. Mackenzie. Read Timceus. Began Bjrron's Life. My
eyes refused progress. Vei*ses. 15th. — Snipe-shooting with
F. in the bog. Began Oritiaa. 22nd. — Haddo. Otter-hunt-
ing, Bem' esito. Finished Plato's Laws. Hunting too in the
library.' The mental dispersion of country-house visiting
never affects either multifarious reading or multifarious
writing. Spanish grammar, Don Quixote in the original,
Crabbe, Don Juan^ alternate with Augustine de peccatorum
remxBsione or de utilitate Credendi ('beautiful and useful').
He works at an essay of his own upon Justification, at
adversaria on Aristotle's Ethics^ at another essay upon

^ In this speech he dealt with an
attack made upon him by his oppo-
nent, Poulett Thomson, afterwards
Lord Sydenham, on the question of
negro slavery : —

*I have had some obloquy cast
upon me by Mr. Thomson, in refer-
ence to the part which I took in the
question of negro slavery. Now, if
tiiere was ever a question upon which
I would desire to submit all that I
have ever said to a candid inquirer,
it is that of negro slavery. He
should try me in opposition to Lord
Stanley, and did Lord Stanley com-
plain? It is well known that he
stated that the only two speeches
which were decidedly hostile to that
measure were delivered by two gentle-
men who hold office under her ma-
jesty's present government, whilst,
on the contrary, his lordship was
pleased to express candidly his high
approbation of my sentiments, and
my individual exertions for the settle-
ment of that matter. Does Mr. Thom-
son mean to say that the great con-
servative body in parliament has
offered opposition to that measure?
Who, I would ask, conducted the
correspondence of the government
office with reference to that impor-
tant question? Will any man who

knows the character of Lord Bathurst
— will any man who knows the char-
acter of Mr. Stephen, the under-
secretary for the colonies — the chosen
assistant of the noble lord in that
ministry of which he was no anun-
portant member — will any man say
that Mr. Stephen, who was all along
the advocate of the slaves, with bis
liberal and enlightened views, exer-
cised an influence less than under
Lord Stanley ? Does Mr. Thomson
presume to state that Lord Aberdeen
was guilty of neglect to the slaves?
When I add that the question under-
went a considerable discussion last
year, in the House of Commons,
when all parties and all interests
were fairly represented, and the best
disposition was evinced to assist the
proper working of the measure, and
to alter some parts that were con-
sidered injurious to the slaves, and
which had come under the immediate
cognisance of the conservative party,
is it fair, is it just, that a minister
of the crown should take advantage,
for electioneering purposes, of 3ie
fact that my connections have an
interest in the "West Indies, to throw
discredit upon me and the cause
which I advocate ? '

BUSINESS WITH WELLINGTON 148

Rational ism, and to save his eyes, spins verse enough to
fill a decent volume of a hundred and fifty pages. He
makes a circuit of calls upon the tenants, taking a farming ^ 2».
lecture from one, praying by the sick-bed of another.

In November he was again in London to be sworn of
the new parliament, and at the end of the month he had
for the first time an interview on business with the Duke of
Wellington — of interest as the collocation of two famous
sames. 'The immediate subject was the Cape of Good
Hope. His reception of me was plain but kind. He came
to the door of his room. " Will you come in? How do you
do? I am glad to see you." We spoke a little of the Cape.
He said with regard to the war — and with sufficient modesty
—that he was pretty well aware of the operations that had
taken place in it, having been at the Cape, and being in
some degree able to judge of those matters. He said,
** I suppose it is there as everywhere else, as we had it last
night about Ireland and the House of Lords. They won't
use the law, as it is in Canada, as it is in the West Indies.
They excite insurrection everywhere (I, however, put in an
i^logy for them in the West Indies), they want to play the
part of opposition; they are not a government, for they
don't maintain the law." He appointed me to return to him
to-morrow.'

The result of the general election was a slight improve-
ment in the position of the conservatives, but they still
mustered no more than 315 against 342 supportera of the
ministry, including the radical and Irish groups. If Mel-
bonrne and Russell found their team delicate to drive, Peel's
difiSculties were hardly less. Few people, he wrote at this
moment, can judge of the difficulty there has frequently
been in maintaining harmony between the various branches
of the conservative party. The great majority in the Lords
I and the minority in the Commons consisted of very different
elements ; they included men like Stanley and Graham, who
had been authors and advocates of parliamentary reform,
and men who had denounced reform as treason to the
constitution and ruin to the country. Even the animosities
of 1829 and catholic emancipation were only half quenched

144 PROGRESS IN PUBLIC LIFE

within the tory ranks ^ It was at a meeting held at Peel's
on December 6, 1837, that Lord Stanley for the first time
1838. appeared among the conservative members.

The disti-actions produced in Canada by mismanagement
and misapprehension in Downing Street had already given
trouble during the very short time when Mr. Gladstone was
under-secretary at the colonial oflSce; but they now broke
into the flame of open revolt. The perversity of a foolish king
and weakness and disunion among his whig ministers had
brought about a catastrophe. At the beginning of the
session (1838) the government introduced a bill suspending
the constitution and conferring various absolute powers on
Lord Durham as governor general and high commissioner.
It was in connection with this proposal that Mr. Gladstone
seems to have been first taken into the confidential consul-
tations of the leaders of his party.

The sage mai-shalling and manoeuvring of the parlia-
mentary squads was embarrassed by a move from Sir
William Molesworth, of whom we have just been hearing,
the editor of Hobbes, and one of the group nicknamed philo-
sophic radicals with whom Mr. Gladstone at this stage
seldom or never agreed. 'The new school of morals,' he
called them, 'which taught that success was the only
criterion of merit,' — a delineation for which he would have
been severely handled by Bentham or James Mill. Moles-
worth gave notice of a vote of censure on Lord Glenelg,
the colonial minister ; that is, he selected a single member
of the cabinet for condemnation, on the ground of acts for
which all the other minister were collectively just as
responsible. For this discrimination the only precedent
seems to be Fox's motion against Lord Sandwich in 1779.
Mr. Gladstone's memorandum ^ completes or modifies the
account of the dilemma of the conservative leader, already
known from Sir Robert Peel's papers,® and the reader will find
it elsewhere. It was the right of a conservative opposition
to challenge a whig ministry; yet to fight under radical
coloui*s was odious and intolerable. On the other hand lie

1 Parker's Peel, ii. pp. 336-8. * See Appendix.

• Parker, il pp. 362-367.

OAKADIAN SPEECH 145

could not vote for Molesworth, because he thought him un- chap.

just ; but he could not vote against him, because that would ^ j

imply confidence in the Canadian policy of ministers. A cer- j^^ 29.

tain conservative contingent would not acquiesce in support
of ministers against Molesworth, or in tame resort to the
previous question. Again, Peel felt or feigned an apprehen-
tdon that if by aggressive action they beat the government,
a conservative ministry must come in, and he did not
think that such a ministry could last. Even at this risk, it
became clear that the only way of avoiding the difl&culty
was an amendment to Molesworth's motion from the official
opposition. Mr. Gladstone spoke (Mar. 7), and was described
as making his points with admirable precision and force,
though 'with something of a provincial manner, like the
rust to a piece of powerful steel machinery that has not
worked into polish.' The debate, on which such mighty
issues were thought to hang, lasted a couple of nights
with not more than moderate spirit. At the close the
amendment was thrown out by a majority of twenty-
nine for ministers. The general result was to moderate
the impatience of the Carlton Club men, who wished to
see their i>arty in, on the one hand ; and of the radical
men, who did not object to having the whigs out, on the
other. It showed that neither administration nor opposi-
tion was in a station of supreme command.

• in
At the end of March Mr. Gladstone produced the strongest
impression that he had yet made in parliament, and he now
definitely took his place in the front rank. It was on the old
embarrassment of slavery. Reports from the colonies showed
that in some at least, and more particularly in Jamaica, the
apprenticeship system had led to harsher treatment of the
negroes than under slavery. As it has been well put,
the bad planters regarded their slave-apprentices as a bad
farmer regards a farm near the end of an expiring term.
In 18S6 Buxton moved for a select committee to inquire into
the working of the system. Mr. Gladstone defended it, and
he warned parliament asrainst ' incautious and precipitate

VOL. I L

146 PB06BB88 IN PUBLIC UFB

BOOK anticipations of entire success ' (March 22). Six days later
, he was appointed a member of the apprenticeship com-

1^39, mittee which at once began to investigate the complaints
from Jamaica* Mr. Gladstone acted as the representative
of the planters on the committee, and he paid very dose
attention to the proceedings during two sessions. In
the spring of 1838 a motion was made to accelerate bj
two years the end of the apprenticeship system on the
slave plantations of the West Indies. Brougham had been
raising a tempest of humane sentiment by more than one of
his most magnificent speeches. The leading men on both
sides in parliament were openly and strongly against a dis-
turbance of the settlement, but the feeling in the constitu-
encies was hot, and in liberal and tory camp alike members
in fear and trembling tried to make up their minds. Sir
George Grey made an eflfective case for the law as it stood,
and Peel spoke on the same side; but it was agreed that
Mr. Gladstone, by his union of fervour, elevation, and a com-
plete mastery of the facts of the case, went deeper than
either. Even unwilling witnesses * felt bound to admit the
great ability he displayed.' His address was completely that
of an advocate, and he did not even affect to look on both
sides of the question, expressing his joy that the day had at
length arrived when he could meet the charges against the
planters and enter upon their defence.

March 30^A. — Spoke from 11 to 1. Eeceived with the greatest
and most affecting kindness from all parties, both during and after.
Through the debate I felt the most painful depression. Except
Mr. Plimiptre and Lord John Russell, all who spoke damaged the
question to the utmost possible degree. Prayer earnest for the
moment was wrung from me in my necessity ; I hope it was not a
blasphemous prayer, for support in pleading the cause of justice.
... I am half insensible even in the moment of delight to such
pleasures as this kind of occasion affords. But this is a danger-
ous state ; indifference to the world is not love of God. . . .

In writing to him upon this speech, Mr. Stephen, his former
ally at the colonial office, addressed an admonition, which is
worth recalling both for its own sake and because it hits by

SPEECH ON SLAVERY 147

anticipation what was to be one of the most admirable traits chap.
in the mighty parliamentarian to whom it was written. ' It ^ ^^ ^
seems to me/ says Stephen, Hhat this part of your speech ^^ 29
establishes nothing more than the fact that your opponents
are capricious in the distribution of their sympathy,
which is, after all, a reproach and nothing more. Now,
reproach is not only not your strength, but it is the very
thing in the disuse of which your strength consists ; and
indulging as I do the hope that you will one day occupy one
of the foremost stations in the House of Commons, if not
the first of all, I cannot help wishing that you may also
be the founder of a more magnanimous system of parlia-
meDtary tactics than has ever yet been established, in which
lecrimination will be condemned as unbefitting wise men
and good Christians.* In an assembly for candid delibera-
tion modified by party spirit, this is, I fear, almost as much a
counsel of perfection as it would have been in a school of
Roman gladiators, but at any rate it points the better way.
The speech itself has a close, direct, sinewy quality, a com-
plete freedom from anything vague or involved ; and shows
for the first time a perfect mastery of the art of handling
detail upon detail without an instant of tediousness, and
holding the attention of listeners sustained and unbroken.
It was a remonstrance against false allegations of the mis-
behaviour of the planters since the emancipating act, but
there is not a trace of backsliding upon the great issue.
' We joined in passing the measure ; we declared a belief
that slavery was an evil and demoralising state, and a desire
to be relieved from it ; we accepted a price in composition
for the loss which was expected to accrue.'

Neither now or at any time did Mr. Gladstone set too
low a value on that great dead-lift eflfort, not too familiar
in history, to heave off a burden from the conscience of the
nation, and set back the bounds of cruel wrong upon the earth.
On the day after this performance, the entry in his diary
is — 'In the morning ray father was greatly overcome, and I
conld hardly speak to him. Now is the time to turn this
attack into measures of benefit for the negroes.' More than
once in the course of the spring he showed how much in

148 PBOGBESS IS PUBLIC UFB

earnest he was about the negroes, by strenuously pressing his
father to allow him to go to the West Indies and view the
^^^ state of things there for himself. Perhaps by prudent
instinct his father disapproved, and at last spoke decidedly
against any project of the kind.

The question of the education of the people was rising into
political prominence, and its close relations with the claims
of the church sufficed to engage the active interest of so
zealous a son of the church as Mr. Gladstone. From a very
early stage we find him moving for returns, serving on
education committees in parliament, corresponding ener-
getically with Manning, Acland, and others of like mind in
and out of parliament. Primary education is one of the
few subjects on which the fossils of extinct opinion neither
interest nor instruct. It is enough to mark that Mr. Glad-
stone's position in the forties was that of the ultra-church-
man of the time, and such as no church-ultra now dreams
of fighting for. We find him ' objecting to any infringement
whatever of the principle on which the established church
was founded — that of confining the pecuniary support of
the state to one particular religious denomination.' ^

To Dr. Hook (March 12, 1838), he speaks of *a safe and
precious interval, perhaps the last to those who are desirous
of placing the education of the people under the efficient
control of the clergy.' The aims of himself and his allies
were to plant training schools in every diocese ; to connect
these with the cathedrals through the chapters; to license
the teachers by the bishops after examination.

Writing to Manning (Feb. 22, 1839), he compares control
by government to the 'little lion cub in the Agamemnon,^
which after being in its primeval season the delight of the
young and amusement of the old, gradually revealed its
parent stock, and grew to be a creature of huge mischief in
the household.^ He describes a divergence of view among

^ Hansard, June 20, 1830. In life's beginnings mild

« Agam. 606-716. Dear to sire and kind to child. . . .

Even so belike might one But in time he showed

A lion suckling nurse, The habit of his blood. . . .
Like a foster-son, — Gladstone in TVanslo-

To his home a future cuise. tiona^ p. S3.

IN SOCIETY 149

iiem on the question whether the clergyman should have
lis choice as to ^ admitting the children of dissenters without
It once teaching them the catechism.' How Mr. Gladstone ^,^.
(¥ent he does not say, nor does it matter. He was not yet
thirty. He accepted his political toryism on authority and
in good faith, and the same was true of his views on church
policy. He could not foresee that it was to be in his own
day of power that the cub should come out full-grown lion.

His work did not prevent him from mixing pretty freely
with men in society, though he seems to have thought that
little of what passed was worth transcribing, nor in truth
had Mr. Gladstone ever much or any of the rare talent of
the born diarist. Here are one or two miscellanea which
must be made to serve: —

-4pn7 25/38. — A long sitting and conversation with Mr. Eogers

after the Milnes' marriage breakfast. He spoke unfavourably of

Bulwer ; well of Milnes' verses ; said his father wished them not

to be published, because such authorship and its repute would

clash with the parliamentary career of his son. Mr. Rogers

thought a great author would undoubtedly stand better in

parliament from being such ; but that otherwise the additament

of authorship, unless on germane subjects, would be a hindrance.

HequotedSwift on women. . . . He has a good and tender opinion

of them ; but went nearly the length of Maurice (when mentioned

to him) that they had not that specific faculty of understanding

which lies beneath the reason. Peel was odd, in the contrast of a

familiar first address, with slackness of manner afterwards. The

Duke of Wellington took the greatest interest in the poor around

him at Strathfieldsay, had all of eloquence except the words. Mr.

Rogers quoted a saying about Brougham that he was not so much

a master of the language as mastered by it. I doubt very much

the tnith of this. Brougham's management of his sentences, as I

remember the late Lady Canning observing to me, is surely most

wonderful. He never loses the thread, and yet he habitually

tirists it into a thousand varieties of intricate form. He said, when

.Stanley came out in public life, and at the age of thirty, he was

bv far the cleverest young man of the day ; and at sixty he would

hje the same, still by far the cleverest young man of the day.

150 PB0GBES8 IN PUBLIC LIFE

June l^th. — Sir R. Peel dined at Mr. Dugdale's. After dinner
he spoke of Wilberforce; believed him to be an excellent man
1838. independently of the book, or would not have been favourably
impressed by the records of his being in society, and then going
home and describing as lost in sin those with whom he had been
enjoying himself. Upon the other hand, however, he would
have exposed himself to the opposite reproach had he been more
secluded, morosely withdrawing himself from the range of human
sympathies. He remembered him as an admirable speaker ; agreed
that the results of his life were very great (and the man must be
in part measured by them). He disapproved of taking people
to task by articles in the papers, for votes against their party.

JvXy l^h, — I complimented the Speaker yesterday on the time
he had saved by putting an end to discussions upon the presentar
tion of petitions. He replied that there was a more important
advantage; that those discussions very greatly increased the
influence of popular feeling on the deliberations of the House;
and that by stopping them he thought a wall was erected against
such influence — not as strong as might be wished. Probably some
day it might be broken down, but he had done his best to raise
it. His maxim was to shut out as far as might be all extrinsic
pressure, and then to do freely what was right within doors.

This high and sound way of regarding parliament under-
went formidable changes before the close of Mr. Gladstone's
career, and perhaps his career had indirectly something to
do with them. But not, I think, with intention. In 1838
he cited with approval an exclamation of Roebuck's in the
House of Commons, ' We, sir, are or ought to be the ^lite of
the people of England for mind : we are at the head of the
mind of the people of England.'

Mr. Gladstone's position in parliament and the public
judgment, as the session went on, is sufficiently manifest
from a letter addressed to him at this time by Samuel
Wilberforce, four years his junior, henceforth one of his

nearest friends, and always an acute observer of social and

political forces. ^It would be an affectation in you, whicl^
you are above,' writes the future bishop (April 20, 1838)
' not to know that few young men have the weight you hav^H

BXPECTATIONS OF FBIENDS 151

in the H. of C. and are gaining rapidly throughout the
country. ... I want to urge you to look calmly before
you, . . . and act now with a view to then. There is no jej^29
height to which you may not fairly rise in this country.
If it pleases God to spare us violent convulsions and the
loss of our liberties, you may at a future day wield the
whole government of this land ; and if this should be so, of
what extreme moment will your past steps then be to the
real usefulness of your high station.'

1838.

CHAPTER IV

THE CHURCH

(^1838)

A PERIOD and a movement certainly among the most remarkable in
the Chnstendom of the last three and a half centuries ; probably
more remarkable than the movement associated with the name of
Port Royal, for that has passed away and left hardly a trace
behind; but this has left ineffaceable marks upon the English
church and nation. — Gladstone (1891).

It was the affinity of great natures for great issues
that made Mr. Gladstone from his earliest manhood
onwards take and hold fast the affairs of the churches
for the objects of his most absorbing interest. He was one
and the same man, his genius was one. His persistent
incursions all through his long life into the multifarious
doings, not only of his own anglican communion, but of the
Latin church of the west, as well as of the motley Christen-
dom of the east, puzzled and vexed political whippers-in,
wire-pullers, newspaper editors, leaders, colleagues; they
were the despair of party caucuses; and they made the
neutral man of the world smile, as eccentricities of genius
and rather singularly chosen recreations. All this was, in
truth, of the very essence of his character, the manifestation
of its profound unity.

The quarrel upon church comprehension that had pe^
plexed Elizabeth and Burleigh, had distracted the councils
of Charles i. and of Cromwell, had bewildered William of
Orange and Tillotson and Burnet, was once more aglow with
its old heat. The still mightier dispute, how wide or how
narrow is the common ground between the church of
England and the church of Rome, broke into fierce flame.

152

THE RELIGIOUS QUESTION 153

Then by and by these familiar contests of ancient tradition, CHAP.
thus quickened in the eternal ebb and flow of human things , ^^' ^
into fresh vitality, were followed by a revival, with new j^f^, 2s.
artillery and larger strategy, of a standing war that is roughly
described as the conflict between reason and faith, between
science and revelation. The controversy of Laudian divines
with puritans, of Hoadly with non-jurors, of Hanoverian
divines with deists and free-thinkers, all may seem now to us
narrow and dry when compared with such a drama, of so
many interesting characters, strange evolutions, and multiple
and startling climax, as gradually unfolded itself to Mr.
Gladstone's ardent and impassioned gaze.

His is not one of the cases, like Pascal, or Baxter, or
Rutherford, or a hundred others, where a man's theological
history is to the world, however it may seem to himself, the
most important aspect of his career or character. This is
not the place for an exploration of Mr. Gladstone's strictly
theological history, nor is mine the hand by which such
exploration could be attempted. In the sphere of dogmatic
faith, apart from ecclesiastical politics and all the war of prin-
ciples connected with such politics, Mr. Gladstone, by the
time when he was thirty, had become a man of settled ques-
tions. Nor was he for his own part, with a remarkable excep-
tion in respect of one particular doctrine towards the end of
his life, ever ready to re-open them. What is extraordinary
in the career of this far-shining and dominant character of his
age, is not a development of specific opinions on dogma, or
discipline, or ordinance, on article or sacrament, but the fact
that with a steadfast tread he marched along the high
^glican road to the summits of that liberalism which it
was the original object of the new anglicans to resist and
overthrow.

The years from 1831 to 1840 Mr. Gladstone marked as an
era of a marvellous uprising of religious energy throughout
the land ; it saved the church, he says. Not only in Oxford
but in England he declares that party spirit within the
church had fallen to a low ebb. Coming hurricanes were not
foreseen. In Lord Liverpool's government patronage was
considered to have been respectably dispensed, and church

154 THE CHXTBOH

reform was never heard of.^ This dreamless composure was
rudely broken. The repeal of the test and corporation
1838. -^^^ ^ "l-^^^ ^^ roused the church; and her sons rubbed
their eyes when they beheld parliament bringing frankly to
an end the odious monopoly of office under the crown, all
corporate office, all magistracy, in men willing to take the
communion at the altar of the privileged establishment
The next year a deadlier blow fell after a more embittered
fight — the admission of Roman catholics to parliament and
place. The Reform bill of 1832 followed. Even when
half spent, the forces that had been gathering for many
years in the direction of parliamentary reform, and had at
last achieved more than one immense result, rolled heavilj
forward against the church. The opening of parliament and
of close corporations was taken to involve an opening to
correspond in the grandest and closest of all corporations.
The resounding victory of the constitutional bill of 1832
was followed by a drastic handling of the church in Ireland,
and by a proposal to divert a surplus of its property to
purposes not ecclesiastical. A long and peculiarly unedifjr-
ing crisis ensued. Stanley and Graham, two of the most
eminent members of the reforming whig cabinet, on this
proposal at once resigned. The Grey ministry was thus
split in 1834, and the Peel ministry ejected in 1835, on the
ground of the absolute inviolability of the property of the
Irish church. The tide of reaction set slowly in. The shock
in political party was in no long time followed by shock
after shock in the church. As has happened on more than
one occasion in our history, alarm for the church kindled
the conservative temper in the nation. Or to put it in
another way, that spontaneous attachment to the old order
of things, with all its symbols, institutes, and deep associa-
tions, which the radical reformers had both affronted and
ignored, made the church its rallying-point. The three
years of tortuous proceedings on the famous Appropriation
clause — proceedings that political philosophers declared to
have disgraced this country in the face of Europe, and that
were certainly an ignominy and a scandal in a party called
1 Newman, Euays^ ii. p. 428.

CHANGED POSITION OP THE CHURCH 155

reforming — were among the things that helped most to pre- CHAP,
pare the way for the fall of the whigs and the conservative ^ ' j
triumph of 1841. Within ten years from the death of ^^^x. 29.
Canning the church transfixed the attention of the politician.
The Duke of Wellington was hardly a wizard in political
foresight, but he had often a good soldier's eye for things
that stood straight up in front of him. ' The real question,'
said the duke in 1838, *that now divides the country and
which truly divides the House of Commons, is church or no
church. People talk of the war in Spain, and the Canada
question. But all that is of little moment. The real
question is church or no church.'

The position of the tory party as seen by its powerful
recruit was, when he entered public life, a state of hopeless
defeat and discomfiture. 'But in my imagination,' wrote
Mr. Gladstone, 'I cast over that party a prophetic mantle
and assigned to it a mission distinctly religious as the
champion in the state field of that divine truth which it was
the oflBce of the Christian ministry to uphold in the church.
Neither then did I, nor now can I, see on what ground this
inYiolability could for a moment be maintained, except the
belief that the state had such a mission.' He soon dis-
covered how hard it is to adjust to the many angles of an
English political party the seamless mantle of ecclesiastical
predominance.

The changes in the political constitution in 1828, in 1829,
and in 1832, carried with them a deliberate recognition
that the church was not the nation; that it was not
identical with the parliament who spoke for the nation;
that it had no longer a title to compose the governing
order; and — a more startling disclosure still to the minds
of churchmen — that laws affecting the church would hence-
forth be made by men of all churches and creeds, or even
men of none. This hateful circumstance it was that inevi-
tably began in multitudes of devout and earnest minds to
produce a revolution in their conception of a church, and a
resurrection in curiously altered forms of that old ideal of
Milton's austere and lofty school — the ideal of a purely
spiritual association that should leave each man's soul

156 THE CHXTBCH

BOOK and conscience free from 'secular chains' and * hireling

V ^ • J wolves.'
1838. Strange social conditions were emerging on every side.
The factory system established itself on a startling scale.
Huge aggregates of population collected with little regard tc
antique divisions of diocese and parish. Colonies over the sea
extended in boundaries and numbers, and churchmen were
zealous that these infant societies should be blessed by the
same services, rites, ecclesiastical ordering and exhortation,
as were believed to elevate and sanctify the parent com-
munity at home. The education of the people grew to be a
formidable problem, the field of angry battles and campaigns
that never end. Trade, markets, wages, hours, and all the
gaunt and haggard economics of the labour question, added
to the statesman's load. Pauperism was appalling. In a
word, the need for social regeneration both material and
moral was in the spirit of the time. Here were the hopes,
vague, blind, unmeasured, formless, that had inspired the
wild clamour for the bill, the whole bill, and nothing but
the bill. The whig patricians carried away the prizes of
great office, though the work had been done by men of a very
different stamp. It was the utilitarian radicals who laid
the foundations of social improvement in a reasoned creed.
With admirable ability, perseverance, unselfishness, and
public spirit, Bentham and his disciples had regenerated
political opinion, and fought the battle against debt, pauper-
ism, class-privilege, class-monopoly, abusive patronage, a
monstrous criminal law, and all the host of sinister interests.^
As in every reforming age, men approached the work from
two sides. Evangelical religion divides with rationalism the
glory of more than one humanitarian struggle. Brougham,
a more potent force than we now realise, plunged with
the energy of a Titan into a thousand projects, all taking
for granted that ignorance is the disease and useful know-
ledge the universal healer, all of them secular, all dealing
with man from the outside, none touching imagination oi
the heart. March-of-mind became to many almost as weari-
some a cry as wisdom-of-our-ancestors had been. According
1 See Sir Leslie Stephen's English Utilitarians, ii. p. 42.

CHANGED SOCIAL CONDITIONS 157

to some eager innovators) dogma and ceremony were to go,
the fabrics to be turned into mechanics' institutes, the clergy
to lecture on botany and statistics. The reaction against
this dusty dominion of secularity kindled new life in rival
schools. They insisted that if society is to be improved and
civilisation saved, it can only be through improvement in the
character of man, and character is moulded and inspired by
more things than are dreamed of by societies for useful
knowledge. The building up of the inward man in all his
parts, faculties, and aspirations, was seen to be, what in every
age it is, the problem of problems. This thought turned
the eyes of many — of Mr. Gladstone first among them —
to the chui'ch, and stirred an endeavour to make out of
the church what Coleridge describes as the sustaining,
correcting, befriending opposite of the world, the compensat-
ing counterforce to the inherent and inevitable defects of the
state as a state. Such was the new movement of the time
between 1835 and 1845.
I 4t is surprising,' said Proudhon, the trenchant genius of
French socialism in 1840 and onwards, ^how at the bottom
of our politics we always found theology.' It is true at any
rate that the association of political and social change with
theological revolution was the most remarkable of all the
influences in the first twenty years of Mr. Gladstone's public
life. Then rose once more into active prominence the
supreme debate, often cutting deep into the labours of
the modem statesman, always near to the heart of the
speculations of the theologian, in many fields urgent in
its interest alike to ecclesiastic, historian, and philosopher,
the inquiry : what is a church ? This opened the sluices and
let out the floods. What is the church of England? To
ask that question was to ask a hundred others. Creeds,
dojymas, ordinances, hierarchy, parliamentary institution,
judicial tribunals, historical tradition, the prayer-book, the
Bible — all these enormous topics sacred and profane, with
all their countless ramifications, were rapidly swept into a
tornado of such controversy as had not been seen in England
since the Revolution. Was the church a purely human
creation, changing with time and circumstance, like all the

158 THE CH17BCH

other creations of the heart and brain and will of man?
Were its bishops mere officers, like high ministers of mun-
ig^ dane state, or were they, in actual historic truth as in supposed
theological necessity, the direct lineal successoi-s of the fiist
apostles, endowed from the beginning with the mystical pre-
rogatives on which the efficacy of all sacramental rites
depended? What were its relations to the councils of the
first four centuries, what to the councils of the fifteenth
century and the sixteenth, what to the Fathers? The
Scottish presbyterians held the conception of a church as
strongly as anybody;^ but England, broadly speaking, had
never been persuaded that there could be a church without
bishops.

In the answers to this group of hard questions, terrible
divisions that had been long muffled and huddled away
burst into view. The stupendous quarrel of the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries again broke out. To the erastian
lawyer the church was an institution erected on principles of
political expediency by act of parliament. To the school of
Whately and Arnold it was a corporation of divine origin,
devised to strengthen men in their struggle for goodness
and holiness by the association and mutual help of fellow-
believers. To the evangelical it was hardly more than a
collection of congregations commended in the Bible for the
diffusion of the knowledge and right interpretation of the
Scriptures, the commemoration of gospel events, and the
linking of gospel truths to a well-ordered life. To the high
anglican as to the Roman catholic, the church was some-
thing very different from this ; not a fabric reared by man,
nor in truth any mechanical fabric at all, but a mystically
appointed channel of salvation, an indispensable element in
the relation between the soul of man and its creator. To be
a member of it was not to join an external association, but
to become an inward partaker in ineffable and mysterious
graces to which no other access lay open. Such was the
Church Catholic and Apostolic as set up from the beginning,

1 * Nowhere that I know of,' the being of divine foundation, so dog-
Duke of Argyll once wrote in friendly matically expressed as in the Scotch
remonstrance with Mr. Gladstone, Confession; the 39 articles are less
*is the doctrine of a separate society definite on the subject.'

HABD QUESTIOKS BEVIVED 159

and of this immense mystery, of this saving agency, of this chap.
incommensurable spiritual force, the established church of ^ ^^' ,
England was the local presence and the organ. jg^ ^

The noble restlessness of the profounder and more pene-
trating minds was not satisfied, any more than Bossuet had
been, to think of the church as only an element in a scheme
of individual salvation. They sought in it the comprehen-
sive solution of all the riddles of life and time. Newman
drew in powerful outline the sublime and sombre anarchy of
human lustory.

This is the enigma, this the solution in faith and spirit,
in which Mr. Gladstone lived and moved. In him it gave
to the energies of life their meaning, and to duty its
foundation. While poetic voices and the oracles of sages —
Goethe, Scott, Wordsworth, Shelley, Byron, Coleridge — were
drawing men one way or another, or else were leaving the
Toid turbid and formless, he, in the midst of doubts,
distractions, and fears, saw a steadfast light where the
Oxford men saw it; in that concrete representation of the
unseen Power that, as he believed, had made and guides and
rules the world, in that Church Catholic and Apostolic which
alone would have the force and the stoutness necessary to
serve for a breakwater against the deluge. Yet to under-
stand Mr. Gladstone's case, we have ever to remember that
what is called the catholic revival was not in England that
which the catholic counter-revolution had been on the
continent of Europe, primarily a political movement. Its
workings were inward, in the sphere of the mind, in thought
and faith, in idealised associations of historic grandeur.^

n

The reader has already been told how at Rome and in
Naples in 1832, Mr. Gladstone was suddenly arrested by the
new idea of a church, interweaving with the whole of liuman
life a pervading and equalised spirit of religion. Long years
after, in an unfinished fragment, he began to trace the
golden thread of his religious growth: —

My environment in my childhood was strictly evangelical.

^ On this, see Fairbaim's Catholicism, Boman and Anglican, pp. 114-5.

160 THE CHUBCH

My dear and noble mother was a woman of warm piety but
broken health, and I was not directly instructed by her. But I
18S8. ^^ brought up to believe that Doyly and Mant's Bible (then a
standard book of the colour ruling in the church) was heretical,
and that every unitarian (I suppose also every heathen) must, as
matter of course, be lost forever. This deplorable servitude of
mind oppressed me in a greater or less degree for a number of
years. As late as in the year (I think) 1836, one of my brothers
married a beautiful and in every way charming person, who had
been brought up in a family of the unitarian profession, yet under
a mother very sincerely religious. I went through much mental
difficulty and distress at the time, as there had been no express
renunciation [by her] of the ancestral creed, and I absurdly busied
myself with devising this or that religious test as what if accepted
might suffice.^

So, as will be seen, the first access of churchlike ideas to my
mind by no means sufficed to expel my inherited and bigoted
misconception, though in the event they did it as I hope effec-
tively. But I long retained in my recollection an observation
made to me in (I think) the year 1829, by Mrs. Benjamin Gaskell
of Thornes, near Wakefield, a seed which was destined long to
remain in my mind without germinating. I fell into religious^
conversation with this excellent woman, the mother of my Etoni^
friend Milnes Gaskell, himself the husband of an unitarian
She said to me. Surely we cannot entertain a doubt as to th^
future condition of any person truly united to Christ by faith an*-
love, whatever may be the faults of his opinions. Here sl^::;
supplied me with the key to the whole question. At this hour
feel grateful to her accordingly, for the scope of her remark j
very wide ; and it is now my rule to remember her in pray- ^^
before the altar.

There was nothing at Eton to subvert this frame of mind ; for
nothing was taught us either for it or against it. But in the
spring and summer of 1828, 1 set to work on Hooker's Ecclesiastical
Foiityy and read it straight through. Intercourse with my elder
sister Anne had increased my mental interest in religion, and she,
though generally of evangelical sentiments, had an opinion that

1 A litUe sheaf of carious letters on this family episode survives.

HIS RBLIGIOUS GROWTH 161

the standard divines of the English church were of great value.
Hooker's exposition of the case of the church of England came
to me as a mere abstraction; but I think that I found the ^^^29
doctrine of Baptismal Eegeneration, theretofore abhorred, im-
possible to reject, and the way was thus opened for further
changes.

In like manner at Oxford, I do not doubt that in 1830 and
1831 the study of Bishop Butlfer laid the ground for new modes
of thought in religion, but his teaching in the sermons on our
moral nature was not integrated, so to speak, imtil several years
later by larger perusal of the works of Saint Augustine. I may,
however, say that I was not of a mind ill disposed to submit to
authority.

The Oxford Movement, properly so called, began in the year
1833, but it had no direct effect upon me. I did not see the
Tracts, and to this hour I have read but few of them. Indeed, my
first impressions and emotions in connection with it were those
of indignation at what I thought the rash intemperate censures
pronounced by Mr. Hurrell Froude upon the reformers. My
chief tie with Oxford was the close friendship I had formed in
1830 with Walter Hamilton.* His character, always loving and
loved, had, not very greatly later, become deeply devout. But I
do not think he at this time sympathised with Newman and his
friends ; and he had the good sense, in conjunction with Mr. Deni-
son, afterwards bishop, to oppose the censure upon Dr. Hampden,
to which I foolishly and ignorantly gave in, without, however,
being an active or important participator.

But the blow struck by the prayer-book in 1832 set my mind
in motion, and that motion was never arrested. I found food for
the new ideas and tendencies in various quarters, not least in the
reli;2:ious writings of Alexander Knox, all of which I perused.
Moreover, I had an inclination to ecclesiastical conformity, and
obedience as such, which led me to concur with some zeal in the
plans of Bishop Blomfield. In the course of two or three years.
Manning turned from a strongly evangelical attitude to one as
strongly anglican, and about the same time converted his
acquaintance with me into a close friendship. In the same

1 Afterwards Bishop of Salisbury.

VOL. I — M

1

162 THB CHURCH

manner James Hope, whom I had known but slightly at Eton or
Oxford, made a carefully considered change of the same kind ;
1888. ^^^^ ^so became the occasion of a fast friendship. Both these
intimacies led me forward; Hope especially had influence over
me, more than I think any other person at any period of my life.*

When I was preparing in 1837-8 The State in its Relations with
the Churchy he took a warm interest in the work, which, during my
absence on the continent, he corrected for the press. His attitude
towards the work, however, included a desire that its propositions
should be carried further. The temper of the times among young
educated men was working in the same direction. I had no low
churchmen among my near friends, except Walter Farquhar.
Anstice, a great loss, died very early in his beautiful married life.
While I was busy about my book, Hope made known to me
Palmer's work on the Church, which had just appeared. I read
it with care and great interest. It took hold upon me ; and gave
me at once the clear, definite, and strong conception of the church
which, through all the storm and strain of a most critical period,
has proved for me entirely adequate to every emergency, and
saved me from all vacillation. I did not, however, love the
extreme rigour of the book in its treatment of non-episcopal
communions. It was not very long after this, I think in 1842,
that I reduced into form my convictions of the large and im-
portant range of subjects which recent controversy had brought
into prominence. I conceive that in the main Palmer completed
for me the work which inspection of the prayer-book had begun.

Before referring further to my 'redaction' of opinions, I
desire to say that at this moment I am as closely an adherent
to the doctrines of grace generally, and to the general sense of
Saint Augustine, as at the date from which this narrative set out
I hope that my mind* has dropped nothing affirmative. But I
hope also that there has been dropped from it all the damnatory
part of the opinions taught by the evangelical school ; not only
as regards the Koman catholic religion, but also as to heretics
and heathens; nonconformists and presbyterians I think that I
always let off pretty easily. . . .

1 Marrying Walter Scott's granddaughter (1847) he was named Hope-
Scott after 1863.

INFLUSKCE OF FRIENDS AND BOOKS 168

in

The Tractarian movement is by this time one of the

most familiar chapters in our history, and it has had

singular good fortune in being told by three masters of the JEt. 29.

most winning, graphic, and melodious English prose of

the century to which the tale belongs.^ Whether we call

it by the ill name of Oxford counter-reformation or the

fiiendher name of catholic revival, it remains a striking

landmark in the varied motions of English religious thought

and feeling for the three-quarters of a century since the

still unfinished journey first began. In its early stages,

the movement was exclusively theological. Philanthropic

reform still remained with the evangelical school that so

powerfully helped to sweep away the slave trade, cleansed

the prisons, and aided in humanising the criminal law.

It was they who ' helped to form a conscience, if not a heart,

in the callous bosom of English politics,' while the very

{oremost of the Oxford divines was scouting the fine talk

about black men, because they ^ concentrated in themselves

all the whiggery, dissent, cant, and abomination that had been

ranged on their side.' ^ Nor can we forget that Shaftesbury,

the leader in that beneficent crusade of human mercy and

national wisdom which ended in the deliverance of women

and children in mines and factories, was also a leader of the

evangelical party.

The Tractarian movement, as all know, opened, among
other sources, in antagonism to utilitarian liberalism. Yet
J. S. Mill, the oracle of rationalistic liberalism in Oxford
and other places in the following generation, had always
much to say for the Tractarians. He used to tell us
that the Oxford theologians had done for England some-
thing like what Guizot, Villemain, Michelet, Cousin had

^The Apologia of its leader; but there is a pervading sense of

Froade, Short Studies, vol. iv. ; and soundness about it which Newman,

Dean Church's Oxford Movement, great as he was, never inspired.'

1833-45, a truly fascinating book — 2 gee Dr. Fairbairn's Catholicism,

called by Mr. Gladstone a great and Boman and Anglican, p. 292. Pusey

noble book. * It has all the delicacy,' speaks of our * paying twenty millions

he says, 'the insight into the human for a theory about slavery ' (Liddon,

mind, heart, and character, which Life of Pusey, iii. p. 172).
were Newman's great endowment;

164 THE CHUBGH

BOOK done a little earlier for France ; they had opened, broadened,
^ ^' J deepened the issues and meanings of European history;
1838. ^^^7 ^^^ reminded us that history is European ; that it
is quite unintelligible if treated as merely local. He would
say, moreover, that thought should recognise thought and
mind always welcome mind ; and the Oxford men had at
least brought argument, learning, and even philosophy of a
sort, to break up the narrow and frigid conventions of
reigning system in church and college, in pulpits and
professorial chairs. They had made the church ashamed
of the evil of her ways, they had determined that spirit of
improvement from within * which, if this sect-ridden country
is ever really to be taught, must proceed 'pari piusu with
assault from without.' ^

One of the ablest of the Oxford writers talking of the
non-jurors, remarks how very few of the movements that are
attended with a certain romance, and thus bias us for a time
in their favour, will stand full examination ; they so often
reveal some gross offence against common sense.* Want of
common sense is not the particular impression left by the
Tractarians, after we have put aside the plausible dialectic
and winning periods of the leader, and proceed to look at
the effect, not on their general honesty but on their in-
tellectucil integrity, of their most peculiar situation and
the methods which they believed that situation to impose.
Nobody will be so presumptuous or uncharitable as to deny
that among the divines of the Oxford movement were men
as pure in soul, as fervid lovers of truth, as this world ever
possessed. On the other hand it would be nothing short of
a miracle in human nature, if all that dreadful tangle of
economies and reserves, so largely practised and for a long
time so insidiously defended, did not familiarise a vein of
subtlety, a tendency to play fast and loose with words, a
perilous disposition to regard the non-natural sense of lan-
guage as if it were just as good as the natural, a willingness
to be satisfied with a bare and rigid logical consistency of
expression, without respect to the interpretation that was
sure to be put upon that expression by the hearer and the
^ IHssertationa, i. p. 444. > J. B. Mozley's Letters, p. 234.

KISCHIEVOUS EFFBCT8 OF OXFORD ENTANGLEMENTS 165

reader. The strain of their position in all these respects CHAP,
made Newman and his allies no exemplary school. Their ^ ^^' ^
example has been, perhaps rightly, held to account for some- jg^^ 29.
thing that was often under the evil name of sophistry
suspected and disliked in Mr. Gladstone himself, in his
speeches, his writings, and even in his public acts.

It is true that to the impartial eye Newman is no worse than
teachers in antagonistic sects ; he is, for instance, no subtler
than Maurice. The theologian who strove so hard in the
name of anglican unity to develop all the catholic elements
and hide out of sight all the calvinistic, was not driven to any
hardier exploits of verbal legerdemain, than the theologian
who strove against all reason and clear thinking to devise
common formulae that should embrace both catholic and
calvinistic explanations together, or indeed anything else
that anybody might choose to bring to the transfusing
alchemy of his rather smoky crucible. Nor was the third,
and at that moment the strongest, of the church parties at
Oxford and in the country, well able to fling stones at the
other two. What better right, it was asked, had low
churchmen to shut their eyes to the language of rubrics,
creeds, and oflBces, than the high churchmen had to twist
the language of the articles ?

The confusion was grave and it was unfathomable.
Xewman fought a skilful and persistent fight against
liberalism, as being nothing else than the egregious doctrine
that there is no positive truth in religion, and that one
creed is as good as another. Dr. Arnold, on the other hand,
denounced Newmanism as idolatry ; declared that if you let
in the little finger of tradition, you would soon have in the
whole monster, horns and tail and all ; and even complained
of the English divines in general, with the noble exceptions
rf Butler and Hooker, that he found in them a want of
believing or disbelieving anything because it was true or
Ufle, as if that were a question that never occurred to
them.^ The plain man, who was but a poor master either
of Uiedogj or of the history of the church of England, but
Gloved the prayer-book and hated confession, convents,
» Stftiley's Life of Arnold, ii. p. 56 n.

166 THB OHUBGH

priest-craft, and mariolatry, was wrought to madness by a
clergyman who should describe himself, as did R. H.
1838. Froude, as a catholic without the popery, and a church of
England man without the protestantism. The plain man
knew that he was not himself clever enough to form any
distinct idea of what such talk meant. But then his help-
lessness only deepened his conviction that the more distinct
his idea might become, the more intense would his aversion
be, both to the thing meant and to the surpliced conjurer
who, as he bitterly supposed, was by sophistic tricks tryiuj
hard to take him in.

Other portents were at the same time beginning
disturb the world. The finds and the theories of geoL
gists made men uncomfortable, and ^brought down sharj
anathemas. Wider speculations on cosmic and creativ«^
law came soon after, and found their way into popula^za
reading.^ In prose literature, in subtler forms than th <£
verse of Shelley, new dissolving elements appeared th^t
were destined to go far. Schleiermacher, between 18SO
and 1830, opened the sluices of the theological deep, whether
to deluge or to irrigate. In 1830 an alarming note wsm^
sounded in the publication by a learned clergyman of a his-
tory of the Jews. We have seen (p. 66) how Mr. Gladstone
was horrified by it. Milman's book was the beginning of a
new rationalism within the fold. A line of thought was
opened that seemed to make the history of religious ideas
more interesting than their truth. The special claims of an
accepted creed were shaken by disclosing an unmistakeable
family likeness to creeds abhorred. A belief was deemed
to be accounted for and its sanctity dissolved, by referring
it historically to human origins, and showing it to be only
one branch of a genealogical trunk. Historic explanation
became a graver peril than direct attack.

IV

The first skirmish in a dire conflict that is not even now
over or near its end happened in 1836. Lord Melbourne re-
commended for the chair of divinity at Oxford Dr. Hampden,
1 The Vestiges of Creation appeared in 1S44.

\

NEW IDEAS AND TENDENCIES 167

t diyine whose clumsy handling of nice themes had brought CHAP.
him, much against his intention, under suspicion of unsound ^ ^' j
doctrine, and who was destined eleven years later to find jet. 29.
himself the centre of a still louder uproar. Evangelicals and
Tiactarians flew to arms, and the two hosts who were soon
to draw their swords upon one another, now for the first
time, if not the last, swarmed forth together side by side
against the heretic. What was rather an affront than a
penalty was inflicted upon Hampden by a majority of some
five to one of the masters of arts of the university, and in
accord with that majority, as he has just told us, though he
did not actually vote, was Mr. Gladstone. Twenty years
after, when he had risen to be a shining light in the world's
firmament, he wrote to Hampden to express regret for the
injustice of which in this instance ^ the forward precipitancy
of youth ' had made him guilty.^ The case of Hampden
gave a sharp actuality to the question of the relations of
church and crown. The particular quarrel was of secondary
importance, but it brought home to the high churchmen
what might be expected in weightier matters than the
affair of Dr. Hampden from whig ministers, and confirmed
the horrible apprehension that whig ministers might possibly
hare to fill all the regius chairs and all the sees for a whole
generation to come.

Not less important than the theology of the Oxford
diyines in its influence on Mr. Gladstone's line of thought
upon things ecclesiastical was the speculation of Coleridge
on the teaching and polity of a national church. His fertile
book on Church and State was given to the world in 1830,
four years before his death, and this and the ideas proceed-
ing from it were the mainspring, if not of the theology of the
movement, at least of Mr. Gladstone's first marked contri-
bution to the stirring controversies of the time. He has
described the profound eflfect upon his mind of another book,
the Treatise on the Church of Christ, by William Palmer of
Worcester College (1838), and to the end of his life it held
its place in his mind among the most masterly performances
of the day in the twin hemispheres of theology and church
1 The letter will be found at the end of the chapter.

168 THE CHUBCH

polity.^ Newman applauded the book for its magnificence
of design, and undoubtedly it covers much ground, including
1838. * stiflF rejection of Locke's theory of toleration, and the
assertion of the strong doctrine that the Christian prince has
a right by temporal penalties to protect the church from the
gathering together of the froward and the insurrection of
wicked doers. It has at least the merit, so far from universal
in the polemics of that day, of clear language, definite proposi-
tions, and formal arguments capable of being met by a down-
right yes or no.^ The question, however, that has often
slumbered yet never dies, of the right relations between the
Christian prince or state and the Christian church, was rap-
idly passing away from logicians of the cloister.

Note to page 167.

* Hawardetij Chester, November 9, 1856. — My Lord Bishop, — Your lord-
ship will probably be surprised at receiving a letter from me, as a stranger.
The simple purpose of it is to discharge a debt of the smallest possible
importance to you, yet due I think from me, by expressing the regret with
which I now look back on my concurrence in a vote of the University of
Oxford in the year 1836, condemnatory of some of your lordship's publi-
cations. I did not take actual part in the vote ; but upon reference to a
joumid kept at the time, I find that my absence was owing to an accident.

* For a good many years past I have found myself ill able to master books
of an abstract character, and I am far from pretending to be competent at
this time to form a judgment on the merits of any propositions then at issue.
I have learned, indeed, that many things which, in the forward precipitancy
of my youth, I should have condemned, are either in reality sound, or lie
within the just limits of such discussion as especially befits an University.
But that which (after a delay, due, I think, to the cares and pressing occupa-
tions of political life) brought back to my mind the injustice of which I had
unconsciously been guilty in 1836, was my being called upon, as a member
of the Coimcil of King's College in London, to concur in a measure similar
in principle with respect to Mr. Maurice ; that is to say, in a condemnation
couched in general terms which did not really declare the point of imputed
guilt, and against which perfect innocence could have no defence. I resisted
to the best of my power, though ineffectually, the grievous wrong done to
Mr. Maurice, and urged that the charges should be 'made distinct, that aU
the best means of investigation sliould be brought to bear on them, ample
opportunity given for defence, and a reference then made, if needful, fo the
Bishop in his proper capacity. But the majority of laymen in the Council
were inexorable. It was only, as I have said, alter mature reflection that I
came to perceive the bearing of the case on that of 1836, and to find that by my
resistance I had condemned myself. I then lamented very sincerely that I had
not on that occasion, now so remote, felt and acted in a different manner.

* I beg your lordship to accept this expression of my cordial regret, and to
allow me to subscribe myself, very respectfully, your obedient and humble
servant, W. E. Gladstone.' «

1 See his article in the Nineteenth ^ See Church, Oxford Movement^

Century for August, 1894, where he pp. 214-6.

calls Palmer's book the most powerful « This letter is printed in the Life

and least assailable defence of the of Hampden (1876), p. 199.
position of the anglican church from
the sixteenth century downwards.

CHAPTER V

HIS FIRST BOOK

(ISSS-ISSB)

Ths union [with the State] is to the Church of secondary though
great importance. Her foundations are on the holy hills. Her
charter is legibly divine. She, if she should be excluded from the
precinct of government, may still fulfil all her functions, and carry
them out to perfection. Her condition would be anything rather
than pitiable, should she once more occupy the position which she
held before the reign of Constantine. But the State, in rejecting
her, would actively violate its most solemn duty, and would, if the
theory of the connection be sound, entail upon itself a curse. —
Gladstonb (1838).

According to Mr. Gladstone, a furore for church establish-
ment came down upon the conservative squadrons between
1835 and 1838. He describes it as due especially to the jet^29
activity of the presbyterian established church of Scotland
before the disruption, and especially to the 'zealous and
truly noble propagandism of Dr. Chalmers, a man with the
energy of a giant and the simplicity of a child.' In 1837,
Mr. Gladstone says in one of the many fragments written
when in his later years he mused over the past, ' we had a
movement for fresh parliamentary grants to build churches
in Scotland. The leaders did not seem much to like it, but
had to follow. I remember dining at Sir R. Peel's with the
Scotch deputation. It included Collins, a church bookseller
of note, who told me that no sermon ought ever to fall short
of an hour, for in less time than that it was not possible to
explain any t^xt of the Holy Scripture.'

In the spring of 1838, the mighty Chalmers was persuaded
to cross the bonier and deliver in London half a dozen dis-
courses to vindicate the cause of ecclesiastical establish-
• im

170 HIS FIRST BOOK

ments. The rooms in Hanover Square were crowded to
suffocation by intense audiences mainly composed of the
1838. governing class. Princes of the blood were there, high
prelates of the church, great nobles, leading statesmen, and
a throng of members of the House of Commons, from both
sides of it. The orator was seated, but now and again in the
kindling excitement of his thought, he rose unconsciously to
his feet, and by ringing phrase or ardent gesture roused a
whirlwind of enthusiasm such that vehement bystanders as-
sure us it could not be exceeded in the history of human
eloquence.^ In Chalmers' fulminating energy, the mechani-
cal polemics of an appropriation clause in a parliamentary
bill assume a passionate and living air. He had warned his
northern flock, ^ should the disaster ever befall us, of vulgar
and upstart politicians becoming lords of the ascendant, and
an infidel or demi-infidel government wielding the destinies
of this mighty empire, and should they be willing at the
shrines of their own wretched partizanship to make sacri-
fice of those great and hallowed institutions which were
consecrated by our ancestors to the maintenance of religious
truth and religious liberty, — should in particular the mon-
strous proposition ever be entertained to abridge the legal
funds for the support of protestantism, — let us hope that
there is still enough, not of fiery zeal, but of calm, resolute,
enlightened principle in the land to resent the outrage —
enough of energy and reaction in the revolted sense of this
great country to meet and overbear it.*

The impression made by all this on Mr. Gladstone he has
himself described in an autobiographic note of 1897 : —

The primary idea of my early politics was the church. With
this was connected the idea of the establishment, as being every-
thing except essential. When therefore Dr. Chalmers came to
London to lecture on the principle of church establishments, I
attended as a loyal hearer. I had a profound respect for the
lecturer, with whom I had had the honour of a good deal of
acquaintance during winter residences in Edinburgh, and some
corredpondence by letter. I was in my earlier twenties, and he
1 Hannahs Life of Chalmers^ Iv. pp. 37-46.

CHAIiMERS IK LONDON 171

his sixties [he was 58], with a high and merited fame for
eloquence and character. He subscribed his letters to me
*respectfuUy' (or 'most respectfully') yours, and puzzled me ^29.
extremely in the effort to find out what suitable mode of subscrip-
tion to use in return. Unfortunately the basis of his lectures
was totally unsound. Parliament as being Christian was bound
to know and establish the truth. But not being made of theo-
logians, it could not follow the truth into its minuter shadings,
and must proceed upon broad lines. Fortunately these lines were
ready to hand. There was a religious system which, taken in the
rough, was truth This was known as protestantism : and to its
Tarieties it was not the business of the legislature to have regard.
On the other side lay a system which, taken again in the rough,
was not truth but error. This system was known as popery.
Parliament therefore was bound to establish and endow some kind
of protestantism, and not to establish or endow popery.

In a letter to Manning (May 14, 1838) he puts the case
more bluntly : —

Such a jumble of church, un-church, and anti-church principles
as that excellent and eloquent man Dr. Chalmers has given us in
his recent lectures, no human being ever heard, and it can only be
compared to the state of things —

Ante mare et terras et quod tegit omnia coelum.*

He thinks that the State has not cognisance of spirituals,

except upon a broad simple principle like that which separates

popery from protestantism, namely that protestantism receives

the word of God only, popery the word of God and the word of

man alike — it is easy, he says, such being the alternatives, to

judge which is preferable. He flogged the apostolic succession

grievously, seven bishops sitting below him : London, Winchester,

Chester, Oxford, Llandaff, Gloucester, Exeter, and the Duke of

Cambridge incessantly bobbing assent; but for fear we should be

annoyed he then turned round on the cathedrals plan and flogged

it with at least equal vigour. He has a mind keenly susceptible

of what is beautiful, great, and good ; tenacious of an idea when

once grasped, and with a singular power of concentrating the

1 Ovid, Met. i. 6. — Chaos, before sea and land and all-covering skies.

172 HIS FIRST BOOK

whole man upon it. But unfortunately I do not believe he has ever
looked in the face the real doctrine of the visible church and the
1838. s^postolic succession, or has any idea what is the matter at issue,

Mr. Gladstone says he could not stand the undisputed
currency in conservative circles of a theory like this, and felt
that the occasion ought to be seized for further entrenching
the existing institution, strong as it seemed in fact, by more
systematic defences in principle and theory. He sat down
to the literary task with uncommon vigour and persistency.
His object was not merely to show that the state has a
conscience, for not even the newest of new Machiavellians
denies that a state is bound by some moral obligations,
though in history and fact it is true that

Earth is sick.
And Heaven is weary, of the hollow words
Which States and Kingdoms utter when they talk
Of truth and justice.*

But the obligation of conscience upon a state was not Mr.
Gladstone's only point. His propositions were, that the
state is cognisant of the difference between religious truth
and religious error: that the propagation of this truth and
the discouragement of this error are among the ends for
which government exists ; that the English state did recog-
nise as a fundamental duty to give an active and exclusive
support to a certain religion ; and finally that the condition
of things resulting from the discharge of this duty was well
worth preserving against encroachment, from whatever quar-
ter encroachment might threaten.

On July 28rd, the draft of his book was at last finished,
and he dispatched it to James Hope for free criticism,
suggestions, and revision. The 'physical state of the MS.,'
as Mr. Gladstone calls it, seems to have been rather indefen-
sible, and his excuse for writing ' irregularly and confusedly,
considering the pressure of other engagements ' — an excuse
somewhat too common with him — was not quite so valid as
he seems to have thought it. 'The defects,' writes Hope,
'are such as must almost necessarily occur when a great

* Ezcursiorij v.

COBIPOSITION OP HIS WORK 178

subject is handled piecemeal and at intervals ; and I should
recommend, with a view to remedying them, that you pro-
cure the whole to be copied out in a good legible hand with ^^^ 29.
blank pages, and that you read it through in this shape once
connectedly, with a view to the whole argument, and again
with a view to examining the structure of each part.' ^ Hope
took as much trouble with the argument and structure of
the book as if he were himself its author. For many weeks
the fervid toil went on.

The strain on his eyesight that had embarrassed Mr.
Gladstone for several months now made abstinence from
incessant reading and writing necessary, and he was ordered
to travel. He first settled with his sister at Ems (August
loth), whither the proofs of his book with Hope's annota-
tions followed, nor did he finally get rid of the burden until
the middle of September. The tedium of life in hotels was
almost worse than the tedium of revising proofs, and at Milan
and Florence he was strongly tempted to return home, as
the benefit was problematical ; it was even doubtful whether
pictures were any less trying to his eyes than books. He
made the acquaintance of one celebrated writer of the time.
'I went to see Manzoni,' he says, *in his house some six or
eight miles from Milan in 1838. He was a most interesting
man, but was regarded, as I found, among the more fashion-
able priests in Milan as a hacchettone [hypocrite]. In his
own way he was, I think, a liberal and a nationalist, nor was
the alliance of such politics with strong religious convictions
uncommon among the more eminent Italians of those days.'
October found him in Sicily,^ where he travelled with Sir
Stephen Glynne and his two sisters, and here we shall soon
see that with one of these sisters a momentous thing came
to pass. It was at Catania that he first heard of the publica-
tion of his book. A month or more was passed in Rome in
company with Manning, and together they visited Wiseman,
Manning's conversion still thirteen years off. Macaulay too,
now eight-and-thirty, was at Rome that winter. ' On

' Memoirs of J. R. Hope - Scott, 2 He wrote an extremely graphic
L p. 150, where an adequate portion account of their ascent of Mount
of the correspondence is to be found. Etna, which has since found a place

in Murray^s handbook for Sicily.

174 HIS FIBST BOOK

BOOK Christmas Eve,' he says, ^ I found Gladstone in the tlitong,
J and I accosted him, as we had met, though we had never

1889. ^^^ introduced to each other. We talked and walked
together in St. Peter's during the best part of an afternoon.
He is both a clever and an amiable man. . . .' At Rome,
as the state of his eyesight forbade too close resort to
picture galleries and museums, he listened to countless
sermons, all carefully recorded in his diary. Dr. Wiseman
gave him a lesson in the missal. On his birthday he went
with Manning to hear mass with the pope's choir, and they
were placed on the bench behind the cardinals. At St.
Peter's he recalled that there his first conception of the
unity of the church had come into his mind, and the
desire for its attainment — *an object in every human sense
hopeless, but not therefore the less to be desired, for the
horizon of human hope is not that of divine power and
wisdom. That idea has been upon the whole, I believe, tiie
ruling one of my life during the period that has since
elapsed.' On January 19, he bade *a reluctant adieu to the
mysterious city, whither he should repair who wishes to
renew for a time the dream of life.'

A few years later Mr. Gladstone noted some differences
between English and Italian preaching that are of interest: —

The fundamental distinction between English and Italian
preaching is, I think, this: the mind of the English preacher,
or reader of sermons, however impressive, is fixed mainly upon
his composition, that of the Italian on his hearers. The Italian
is a man applying himself by his rational and persuasive organs
to men, in order to move them ; the former is a man applying
himself, with his best ability in many cases, to a fixed form of
matter, in order to moke it move those whom he addresses. The
action in the one case is warm, living, direct, immediate, from
heart to heart ; in the other it is transfused through a medium
comparatively torpid. The first is surely far superior to the
second in truth and reality. The preacher bears an awful message.
Such messengers, if sent with authority, are too much identified
with, and possessed by, that which they carry, to view it
objectively during its delivery, it absorbs their very being and

GOBS ABROAD. BOOK PUBLISHED 175

all its energies, they are their message, and they see nothing cHAP.

extrinsic to themselves except those to whose hearts they desire V.

to bring it. In truth, what we want is the following of nature, j^ ^
and her genial development. (March 20, Palm Sunday, '42.)

II

It was the end of Januaiy (1889) before Mr. Gladstone
arrived in London, and by that time his work had been out
for six or seven weeks. ^ On his return we may be sure that
his book and its fortunes were the young author's most
lively interest. Church authorities and the clergy gene-
rally, so far as he could learn, approved, many of them very
warmly. The Bishop of London wrote this, and the Arch-
bishop of Canterbury said it. It is easy to understand
with what interest and delight the average churchman
would welcome so serious a contribution to the good cause,
80 bold an effort by so skilled a hand, by lessons from
history, by general principles of national probity and a
national religion, and by well-digested materials gathered,
as Hooker gathered his, *from the characteristic circum-
stances of the time,* to support the case for ecclesiastical
privilege. Anglicans of the better sort had their intellec-
tual self-respect restored in Mr. Gladstone's book, by finding
that they need no longer subsist on the dregs of Eldonian
prejudice, but could sustain themselves in intellectual
dignity and aflBuence by large thoughts and sonorous
phrases upon the nature of human society as a grand
whole.^ Even unconvinced whigs who quarrelled with the
arguments, admitted that the tories had found in the
young member for Newark a well-read scholar, with extra-
ordinary amplitude of mind, a man who knew what reasoning
meant, and a man who knew how to write.

The first chapter dealing with establishment drew forth
premature praise from many who condemned the succeed-
ing chapters setting out high notions as to the church.
From both universities he had favourable accounts. * From
Scotland they are mixed; those which are most definite

^ 0! the first edition some 1500 or ^ Memoirs of J. B. Hope-Scott, i.
ITSO copies were sold. p. 172.

176 HIS FIRST BOOK

tend to show there is considerable soreness, at which,
God knows, I am not surprised; but I have not sought
1839. ^or desired it.' The Germans on the whole approved.
Bunsen was exuberant; there was nobody, he said, with
whom he so loved avii<t>CKo(ro<f>€lv koX a'VfjL<f>t\o\oy€lp ; people
have too much to do about themselves to have time to
seek truth on its own account; the greater, therefore, the
merit of the writer who forces his age to decide, whether
they will serve God or Baal. Gladstone is the first man in
England as to intellectual power, he cried, and he has heard
higher tones than any one else in this land. The Crown
Prince of Prussia sent him civil messages, and meant to
have the book translated. Rogers, the poet, wrote that his
mother was descended from stout nonconformists, that his
father was perverted to his mother's heresies, and that
therefore he himself could not be zealous in the cause;
but, however that might be, of this Mr. Gladstone might
be very sure, that he would love and admire the author
of the book as much as ever. The Duke of Newcastle
expected much satisfaction ; meanwhile declared it to be
a national duty to provide churches and pastors ; parlia-
ment should vote even millions and millions; then dissent
would uncommonly soon disappear, and a blessing would
fall upon the land. Dr. Arnold told his friends how much
he admired the spirit of the book throughout, how he
liked the substance of half of it, how erroneous he thought
the other half. Wordsworth pronounced it worthy of all
attention, doubted whether the author had not gone too
far about apostolical descent; but then, like the sage that
he was, the poet admitted that he must know a great deal
more ecclesiastical history, be better read in the Fathers,
and read the book itself over again, before he could feel
any right to criticise.^

1 Carlyle wrote to Emerson (Feb. has contrived to Insert a piece of yoa

8, 1839) : One of the strangest things (first Oration it must be) in a work of

about these New England Orations his own on Church and State^ which

(Emerson's) is a fact I have heard, makes some figure at present! I

but not yet seen, that a certain know him for a solid, serious, silent-

W. Gladstone, an Oxford crack minded man ; but how with hii

scholar, tory M.P., and devout Coleridge shovel-hattism he has con-

churchman of great talent and hope, trived to relate himself to yov, then

ITS RECEPTION 177

His political leaders had as yet not spoken a word. On
February 9th, Mr. Gladstone dined at Sir Robert Peel's.
^'Not a word from him, Stanley, or Graham yet, even to jgj
acknowledge my poor book; but no change in manner,
certainly none in Peel or Graham.' Monckton Milnes had
been to Drayton, and told how the great man there had asked
impatiently why anybody with so fine a career before him
should go out of his way to write books. ' Sir Robert Peel,'
says Mr. Gladstone, * who was a religious man, was wholly
anti-church and unclerical, and largely undogmatic. I feel
that Sir R. Peel must have been quite perplexed in his
treatment of me after the publication of the book, partly
through his own fault, for by habit and education he was
quite incapable of comprehending the movement in the
church, the strength it would reach, and the exigencies it
would entail. Lord Derby, I think, early began to escape
from the erastian yoke which weighed upon Peel. Lord
Aberdeen was, I should say, altogether enlightened in
legard to it and had cast it off: so that he obtained from
some the sobriquet (during his ministry) of "the presby-
terian Puseyite." ' Even Mr. Gladstone's best friends
trembled for the effect of his ecclesiastical zeal upon his
powers of political usefulness, and to the same effect was
the general talk of the town. The common suspicion that
the writer was doing the work of the hated Puseyites grew
darker and spread further. Then in April came Macaulay's
article in the Edinburgh^ setting out with his own in-
comparable directness, pungency, and effect, all the argu-
ments on the side of that popular antagonism which was
rooted far less in specific reasoning than in a general anti-
sacerdotal instinct that lies deep in the hearts of English-
men. John Sterling called the famous article the assault
of ^n equipped and practised sophist against a crude young
platonist, who happens by accident to have been taught the
hard and broken dialect of Aristotle rather than the deep,
continuous, and musical flow of his true and ultimate master.

is the mystery. True men of all There is more than one reference

creeds, it tmnhl seem, are brothers, to Emerson in Mr. Gladstone's book,

— Correspondpnre of Carlyle and e.g. 1. pp. 26, 180.
Emerton, i. p. 217.

178 HIS FIBST BOOK

BOOK Author and critic exchanged magnanimous letters worthy
, ^' J of two great and honourable men.^ Not the least wonderful
1839. thing about Macaulay's review is that he should not have
seen how many of his own most trenchant considerations told
no more strongly against Mr. Gladstone's theory, than they
told against that whig theory of establishment which at the
end of his article he himself tried to set up in its place.

Pi-aise indeed came, and praise that no good man could
have treated with indifference, from men like Keble, and it
came from other quarters whence it was perhaps not quite
so welcome, and not much more dangerous. He heard
(March 19) that the Duke of Sussex, at Lord Durham's,
had been strongly condemning the book; and by an odd
contrast just after, as he was standing in conversation with
George Sinclair, O'Connell with evident purpose came up
and began to thank him for a most valuable work ; for the
doctrine of the authority of the church and infallibility in
essentials — a great approximation to the church of Rome
— an excellent sign in one who if he lived, etc. etc.
It did not go far enough for the Roman catholic Arch-
bishop of Tuan; but Dr. Murray, the Archbishop of
Dublin, was delighted with it ; he termed it an honest book,
while as to the charges against romanism Mr. Gladstone
was misinformed. *I merely said I was very glad to
approximate to any one on the ground of truth; i.e. rejoiced
when truth immediately wrought out, in whatever degree,
its own legitimate result of unity. O'Connell said he
claimed half of me. . . . Count Montalembert came to me
to-day (March 23rd), and sat long, for the purpose of
ingenuously and kindly impugning certain statements in
my book, viz. (1) That the peculiar tendency of the policy
of romanism before the reformation went to limit in the
mass of men intellectual exercise upon religion. (2) That
the doctrine of purgatory adjourned until after death, more
or less, the idea and practice of the practical work of
religion. (8) That the Roman catholic church restricts the
reading of the scriptures by the Christian people. He

1 The letters are given in full in OUanings^ vii. p. 106. See also Tre-
yelyan*8 Macaulay^ chap. viii.

THE BOOK TOO LATE 179

spoke of the evils ; I contended we had a balance of good,
and that the idea of duty in individuals was more developed
here than in pure Roman catholic countries.' j£^^ ^^

All was of no avail. ^ Scarcely had my work issued from
the press,' wrote Mr. Gladstone thirty years later, ' when I
became aware that there was no party, no section of a party,
no individual person probably, in the House of Commons,
who was prepared to act upon it. I found myself the last
man on a sinking ship.' Exclusive support to the established
religion of the country had been the rule ; ' but when I bade
it live, it was just about to die. It was really a quickened,
not a deadened conscience, in the country, that insisted on
enlarging the circle of state support.' ^ The result was not
wholly unexpected, for in the summer of 1838 while actually
writing the book, he records that he ' told Pusey for himself
alone, I thought my own church and state principles within
one stage of being hopeless as regards success in this gen-
eration.'

Another set of fragmentary notes, composed in 1894, and
headed ^ Some of my Errors,' contains a further passage that
points in a significant direction : —

Oxford had not taught me, nor had any other place or person,

the value of liberty as an essential condition of excellence in

haman things. True, Oxford had supplied me with the means of

applying a remedy to this mischief, for she had undoubtedly in-

fased into my mind the love of truth as a dominant and supreme

motive of conduct. But this it took long to develop into its

proper place and function. It may, perhaps, be thought that

among these errors I ought to record the publication in 1838 of my

first work. The State in Us Relation with the Church. Undoubtedly

that work was written in total disregard or rather ignorance of

the conditions under which alone political action was possible in

matters of religion. It involved me personally in a good deal of

embarrassment. ... In the sanguine fervour of youth, having

now learned something about the nature of the church and its

office, and noting the many symptoms of revival and reform

within her borders, I dreamed that she was capable of recovering

1 Chapter of Autobiography, 1868. — Gleanings, vii. p. 116.

180 HIS FIRST BOOK

lost ground, and of bringing back the nation to unity in her
communion. A notable projection from the ivory gate,

1841. * Sed falsa ad coelum mittunt insomnia manes.' ^

From these points of view the effort seems contemptible. But I
think that there is more to be said. The land was overspread
with a thick curtain of prejudice. The foundations of the historic
church of England, except in the minds of a few divines, were
obscured. The evangelical movement, with all its virtues and
merits, had the vice of individualising religion in degree perhaps
unexampled, and of rendering the language of holy scripture
about Mount Sion and the kingdom of heaven little better than a
jargon. ... To meet the demands of the coming time, it was a
matter of vital necessity to cut a way through all this darkness
to a clearer and more solid position. Immense progress has been
made in that direction during my lifetime, and I am inclined
to hope that my book imparted a certain amount of stimulus to
the public mind, and made some small contribution to the needful
process in its earliest stage.

In the early pages of this very book, Mr. Gladstone says,
that the union of church and state is to the church of
secondary though great importance; her foundations are
on the holy hills and her condition would be no pitiable one,
should she once more occupy the position that she held before
the reign of Constantine.^ Faint echo of the unforgotten
lines in which Dante cries out to Constantino what woes his
fatal dower to the papacy had brought down on religion and
mankind.^ In these sentences lay a germ that events were
speedily to draw towards maturity, a foreshadowing of the
supreme principle that neither Oxford nor any other place
had yet taught him, ' the value of liberty as an essential con-
dition of excellence in human things.'

This revelation only turned his zeal for religion as the para-
mount issue of the time and of all times into another channel.
Feeling the overwhelming strength of the tide that was run-
ning against his view of what he counted vital aspects of the

1 Aeneid, vi. 896. But through the « Chapter i. p. 5.
ivory gate the shades send to the « Inferno^ rix. 1 16-7.
upper air apparitions that do but
cheat us.

WBITB8 CHURCH PRINCIPLES 181

rch as a national institution, he next flew to the new task
A'orking out the doctrinal mysteries that this institution
x)died| and with Mr. Gladstone to work out a thing in his ^Bt^^
1 mind always meant to expound and to enforce for the
ids of otheis. His pen was to him at once as sword and
buckler ; and while the book on Church and State^ though
iting lively interest, was evidently destined to make no
iverts in theory and to be pretty promptly cast aside
practice, he soon set about a second work on Church
ineipl€9. It is true that with the tenacious instinct of a
n controversialist, he still gave a good deal of time to
istructing buttresses for the weaker places that had been
covered by enemies or by himself in the earlier edifice,
i in 1841 he published a revised version of Church and *
Ue.^ But ecclesiastical discussion was by then taking a
w shape, and the fourth edition fell flat. Of Church
nnciplet^ we may say that it was stillborn. Lockhart said
it, that though a hazy writer, Gladstone showed himself a
Qsiderable divine, and it was a pity that he had entered
rliament instead of taking orders. The divinity, however,
d not attract. The public are never very willing to listen
a political layman discussing the arcana of theology, and
1st of all were they inclined to listen to him about the
fw-found arcana of anglo-catholic theology. As Macaulay
id, this time it was a theological treatise, not an essay
X)n important questions of government; and the intrepid
viewer rightly sought a more fitting subject for his
Agician's gifts in the dramatists of the Restoration,
ewman said of it, 'Gladstone's book is not open to the
5Jections I feared ; it is doctrinaire, and (I think) somewhat
Jf-confident ; but it will do good.'

in
A few sentences more will set before us the earliest of his
Tunsitions, and its gradual dates. He is writing about the
int election at Newark : —

It was a curious piece of experience to a youth in his twenty-
^iTil year, young of his age, who had seen little or nothing of the
. ^ ^^ ^M translated into Gennan and published, with a preface by Tholuck,

182 HIS FIBST BOOK

world, who resigned himself to politics, but whose desire had been
for the ministry of God. The remains of this desire operated
1842-3 unfortunately. They made me tend to glorify in an extravagant
manner and degree not only the religious character of the state,
which in reality stood low, but also the religious mission of the
conservative party. There was in my eyes a certain element of
Antichrist in the Reform Act, and that act was cordially hated,
though the leaders soon perceived that there would be no step
backward. It was only under the second government of Sir
Bobert Peel that I learned how impotent and barren was the
conservative office for the church, though that government was
formed of men able, upright, and extremely well-disposed. It was
well for me that the unfolding destiny carried me off in a con-
siderable degree from political ecclesiasticism of which I should
at that time have made a sad mess. Providence directed that my
mind should find its food in other pastures than those in which
my youthfulness would have loved to seek it. I went beyond the
general views of the tory party in state churchism, ... it was
my opinion that as to religions other than those of the state, the
state should tolerate only and not pay. So I was against salaries
for prison chaplains not of the church, and I applied a logic
plaster to all difficulties. ... So that Macaulay . . . was justified
in treating me as belonging to the ultra section of the tories, had
he limited himself to ecclesiastical questions.

In 1840, when he received Manning's imprimatur for
Church Principles^ he notes how hard the time and cir-
cumstances were in which he had to steer his little bark.
^But the polestar is clear. Reflection shows me that a
political position is mainly valuable as instrumental for the
good of the church, and under this rule every question
becomes one of detail only.' By 1842 reflection had taken
him a step further : —

I now approach the Tnezzo del cammin ; my years glide away.
It is time to look forward to the close, and I do look forward.
My life . . . has two prospective objects, for which I hope the
performance of my present public duties may, if not qualify, yet
extrinsically enable me. One, the adjustment of certain relations

INTERNAL CONFLICT 183

of the church to the state. Not that I think the action of the
latter can be harmonised to the laws of the former. We have
passed the point at which that was possible. . . . But it would be ^^ ^^_^
much if the state would honestly aim at enabling the church to
develop her own intrinsic means. To this I look. The second is,
unfolding the catholic system within her in some establishment
or machinery looking both towai-ds the higher life, and towards
the external warfare against ignorance and depravity.

In the autumn of 1843, Mr. Gladstone explains to his
father the relative positions of secular and church affairs in
his mind, and this is only a few months after what to most
men is the absorbing moment of accession to cabinet and its
responsibilities. 'I contemplate secular affairs,' he says,
^ chiefly as a means of being useful in church affairs, though
I likewise think it right and prudent not to meddle in
church matters for any small reason. I am not making
known anything new to you. . . . These were the senti-
ments with which I entered public life, and although I do
not at all repent of [having entered it, and] am not disap-
pointed in the character of the employments it affords,
certainly the experience of them in no way and at no time
has weakened my original impressions.' At the end of 1843
he reached what looked like a final stage : —

Of public life, I certainly must say, every year shows me more
and more that the idea of Christian i)olitic8 cannot be realised in
the state according to its present conditions of existence. For
purposes sufficient, I believe, but partial and finite, I am more
than content to be where I am. But the perfect freedom of the
new covenant can only, it seems to me, be breathed in other air ;
and the day may come when God may grant to me the application
of this conviction to myself.

CHAPTER VI

CHABACTEBISTICS

{1840)

Bb inspired with the belief that life is a great and noble calling ;
not a mean and grovelling thing that we are to shuffle through as
we can, but an elevated and lofty destiny. — Gladstone.^

It is the business of biography to depict a physiognomy
and not to analyse a type. In our case there is all the
23^ more reason to think of this, because type hardly applies to
a figure like Gladstone's, without any near or distant
parallel, and composed of so many curious dualisms and
unforeseen affinities. Truly was it said of F^nelon, tliat half
of him would be a great man, and would stand out more
clearly as a great man than does the whole, because it would
be simpler. So of Mr. Gladstone. We are dazzled by the
endless versatility of his mind and interests as man of
action, scholar, and controversial athlete; as legislator,
administrator, leader of the people ; as the strongest of his
time in the main branches of executive force, strongest in
persuasive force ; supreme in the exacting details of national
finance ; master of the parliamentary arts ; yet alwajrs living
in the noble visions of the moral and spiritual idealist.
This opulence, vivacity, profusion, and the promise of it all
in these days of early prime, made an awakening impression
even on his foremost contemporaries. The impression might
have been easier to reproduce, if he had been less infinitely
mobile. ' I cannot explain my own foundation,' F^nelon
said ; ' it escapes me ; it seems to change every hour.' How
are we to seek an answer to the same question in the history
of Mr. Gladstone?

1 Hawarden Grammar School, Sept. 19, 1877.
184

PHYSICAL OBGAKISATIOK 185

n

/

His physical vitality — his faculties of free energy, en- CHAP,
durance, elasticity — was a superb endowment to begin with. ^ ^ j
We may often ask for ourselves and others : How many of a ^^ 31^
man's days does he really live? However men may judge
the fruit it bore, Mr. Gladstone lived in vigorous activity every
day through all his years. Time showed that he was bom
with a frame of steel. Though, unlike some men of heroic
strength — Napoleon for example — he often knew fatigue and
weariness, yet his organs never failed to answer the call of
an intense and persistent Will. As we have already seen,
in early manhood his eyes gave him much trouble, and he
both learned by heart and composed a good deal of verse by
way of sparing them. He was a great walker, and at this
time he was a sportsman, as his diary has shown. ^ My
object in shooting, ill as I do it, is the invigorating and
cheering exercise, which does so much for health (1842).*
One day this year (Sept. 13, '42) while out shooting, the sec-
ond barrel of a gun went off while he was reloading, shattering
the forefinger of his left hand. The remains of the finger
the surgeons removed. ' I have hardly ever in my life,' he
savs, *had to endure serious bodily pain, and this was short.'
In 1845, he notes, 'a hard day. What a mercy that my
/strength, in appearance not remarkable, so little fails me.'
In the autumn of 1853 he was able to record, ' Eight or nine
(IsLjs of bed illness, the longest since I had the scarlet fever
at nine or ten years old.' It was the same all through. His
bodily strength was in fact to prove extraordinaiy, and was
no secondary element in the long and strenuous course now
opening before him.

Not second to vigour of physical organisation — perhaps, if
we only knew all the secrets of mind and matter, even con-
nected with this vigour — was strength and steadfastness of
Will. Character, as has been often repeated, is completely
fashioned will, and this superlative requirement, so indis-
pensable for every man of action in whatever walk and on
whatever scale, was eminently Mr. Gladstone's. From force
of will, with all its roots in habit, example, conviction.

186 CHABACTEBI8TICS

purpose, sprang his leading and most effective qualities.
He was never very ready to talk about himself, but when
1840. asked what he regarded as his master secret, he always said,
' Concentration.^ Slackness of mind, vacuity of mind, the
wheels of the mind revolving without biting the raib of the
subject, were insupportable. Such habits were of the family
of faintheartedness, which he abhorred. Steady practice
of instant, fixed, effectual attention, was the key alike to his
rapidity of apprehension and to his powerful memory. In
the orator's temperament exertion is often followed by a
reaction that looks like indolence. This was never so with
him. By instinct, by nature, by constitution, he was a man
of action in all the highest senses of a phrase too narrowly
applied and too narrowly construed. The currents of
daimonic energy seemed never to stop, the vivid suscepti-
bility to impressions never to grow dull. He was an ideal-
ist, yet always applying ideals to their purposes in act
Toil was his native element ; and though he found himself
possessed of many inborn gifts, he was never visited by the
dream so fatal to many a well-laden argosy, that genius alone
does all. There was nobody like him when it came to diffi-
cult business, for bending his whole strength to it, like a
mighty archer stringing a stiff bow.

Sir James Graham said of him in these years that Glad-
stone could do in four hours what it took any other man.
sixteen to do, and he worked sixteen hours a day. WheoB-
I came to know him long years after, he told me that h^
thought when in office in the times that our story is no¥<^^
approaching, fourteen hours were a common tale. Nor wa^
it mere mechanic industry ; it was hard labour, exact, strenvL —
ous, engrossing, rigorous. No Hohenzollem soldier helA
with sterner regularity to the duties of his post. Neei—
less to add that he had a fierce regard for the sanctity o:f
time, although in the calling of the politician it is hardeX"
than in any other to be quite sure when time is well spent-y
and when wasted. His supreme economy here, like many
other virtues, carried its own defect, and coupled with hi^
constitutional eagerness and his quick susceptibility, it le^
at all periods of his life to some hurry. The tumult oi

FOKGB OP WILL AND POWER OF TOIL 187

business, he says one year in his diary, ^follows and
whirls me day and night.' He speaks once in 1844 of 'a
day restless as the sea.' There were many such. That jetIsi.
does not mean, and has nothing to do with, ^ proud pre-
cipitance of soul,' nor haste in foiming pregnant resolves.
Here he was deliberate enough, and in the ordinary conduct
of life even minor things were objects of scrutiny and calcu-
lation, far beyond the habit of most men. For he was low-
lander as well as highlander. But a vast percentage of his
letters from boyhood onwards contain apologies for haste.
More than once when his course was nearly run, he spoke of
bis life having been passed in ^ unintermittent hurry,' just as

Mill said, he had never been in a hurry in his life until he

entered parliament, and then he had never been out of a

hnrry.
It was no contradiction that deep and constant in him,

along with this vehement turn for action, was a craving for

tranquil collection of himself that seemed almost monastic.

To Mrs. Gladstone he wrote a couple of years after their

marriage (Dec. 13, 1841): —

You interpret so indulgently what I mean about the necessity
of quiescence at home during the parliamentary session, that I
need not say much ; and yet I think my doctrine must seem so
strange that I wish again and again to state how entirely it
is different from anything like disparagement, of George for
example. It is always relief and always delight to see and to be
with you ; and you would, I am sure, be glad to know, how near
Mar}' [Lady Lyttelton] comes as compared with others to you, as
respects what I can hardly describe in few words, my mental rest,
when she is present. But there is no man however near to me,
with whom I am fit to be habitually, when hard worked. I have
told you how reluctant I have always found myself to detail to
mj father on coming home, when I lived with him, what had been
going on in the House of Commons. Setting a tired mind to work
is like making a man run up and down stairs when his limbs are
weary.

If he sometimes recalls a fiery hero of the Hiad^ at other
times he is the grave and studious benedictine, but whether

188 CHABACTERISTICS

in quietude or movement, always a man with a purpose and
never the loiterer or lounger, never apathetic, never a sufferer
1840. ^^^°^ ^^^^ worst malady of the human soul — from cheerless-
ness and cold.

We need not take him through a phrenological table of
elements, powers, faculties, leanings, and propensities. Very
early, as we shall soon see, Mr. Gladstone gave marked
evidence of that sovereign quality of Courage which became
one of the most signal of all his traits. He used to say that
he had known three men in his time possessing in a supreme
degree the virtue of parliamentary courage — Peel, Lord John
Russell, and Disraeli. To some other contemporaries for
whom courage might be claimed, he stoutly denied it. No-
body ever dreamed of denying it to him, whether parlia-
mentary courage or any other, in either its active or its
passive shape, either in daring or in fortitude. He had even
the courage to be prudent, just as he knew when it was
prudent to be bold. He applied in public things the
Spenserian line, *" Be bold^ be bold^ and everywhere be bold^^
but neither did he forget the iron door with its admonition,
^ Be not too bold,^ The great Cond4, when complimented on
his courage, always said that he took good care never to call
upon it unless the occasion were absolutely necessary. No
more did Mr. Gladstone go out of his way to summon
courage for its own sake, but only when spurred by duty ;
then he knew no faltering. Capable of much circumspection,
yet soon he became known for a man of lion heart.

Nature had bestowed on him many towering gifts.
Whether Humour was among them, his friends were wont
to dispute. That he had a gaiety and sympathetic alacrity of
mind that was near of kin to humour, nobody who knew him.
would deny. Of playfulness his speeches give a thousand
proofs ; of drollery and fun he had a ready sense, though it
was not always easy to be quite sure beforehand what sort
of jest would hit or miss. For irony, save in its lighter
forms as weapon in debate, he had no marked taste or turn.
But he delighted in good comedy, and he reproached me
severely for caring less than one ought to do for the Merry
Wives of Windsor. Had he Imagination? In its high

MEASXTBE OF HIS GIFTS 189

literary and poetic form he rose to few conspicuous flights —

such, for example, as Burke's descent of Hyder Ali upon the

Camatic — in vast and fantastic conceptions such as arose j^ ^i

from time to time in the brain of Napoleon, he had no part

or lot. But in force of moral and political imagination, in

bold, excursive range, in the faculty of illuminating practical

an»l objective calculations with lofty ideals of the strength

of s>tates, the happiness of peoples, the whole structure of

good government, he has had no superior among the rulers

of England. His very ardour of temperament gave him

imagination ; he felt as if everybody who listened to him in

a great audience was equally fired with his own energy of

sympathy, indignation, conviction, and was transported by

the same emotion that thrilled through himself. All this,

however, did not fully manifest itself at this time, nor for

some years to come.

Strength of will found scope for exercise where some would
not discover the need for it. In native capacity for righteous
Anger he abounded. The flame soon kindled, and it was no
fire of straw; but it did not master him. Mrs. Gladstone
once said to me (1891), that whoever writes his life must
remember that he had two sides — one impetuous, impatient,
irrestrainable, the other all self-control, able to dismiss all
but the great central aim, able to put aside what is weaken-
ing or disturbing ; that he achieved this self-mastery, and
had succeeded in the struggle ever since he was three or four
and twenty, first by the natural power of his character, and
second by incessant wrestling in prayer — prayer that had
been abundantly answered.

Problems of compromise are of the essence of the parlia-
mentary and cabinet system, and for some years at any rate
he was more than a little restive when they confronted him.
Though in the time to come he had abundant difference with
colleagues, he had all the virtues needed for political co-
of)eration, as Cobden, Bright, and Mill had them, nor did
he ever mistake for courage or independence the unhappy
preference for having a party or an opinion exclusively to
one s self. * What is wanted above all things,' he said, ' in
the business of joint counsel, is the faculty of making many

190 CHABACTEBI8TIC8

one, of throwing the mind into the common stock/ ^ This
was a favourite phrase with him for that power of working
1840. with other people, without which a man would do well to
stand aside from public affairs. He used to say that of
all the men he had ever known, Sir Geoi-ge Grey had most
of this capacity for throwing his mind into joint stock. The
demands of joint stock he never took to mean the quenching
of the duty in a man to have a mind of his own. He was
always amused by the recollection of somebody at Oxford —
* a regius professor of divinity, I am sorry to say ' — who was
accustomed to define taste as ' a faculty of coinciding with
the opinion of the majority.'

Hard as he strove for a broad basis in general theory and
high abstract principle, yet always aiming at practical ends
he kept in sight the opportune. Nobody knew better the
truth, so disastrously neglected by politicians who otherwise
would be the very salt of the earth, that not all questions
are for all times. ' For my part,' Mr. Gladstone said, * I have
not been so happy, at any time of my life, as to be able
suflSciently to adjust the proper conditions of handling any
difficult question, until the question itself was at the door.'^
He could not readily apply himself to topics outside of those
with which he chanced at the moment to be engrossed: —
*Can you not wait? Is it necessary to consider now?' That
was part of his concentration. Nor did he fly at a piece of
business, deal with it, then let it fall from his grasp. It
became part of him. If circumstances brought it again into
his vicinity, they found him instantly ready, with a prompt con-
tinuity that is no small element of power in public business.
How little elastic and self-confident at heart he was in
some of his moods in early manhood, we discern in the
curious language of a letter to his brother-in-law Lyttelton
in 1840: —

It is my nature to lean not so much on the applause as upon the
assent of others to a degree which perhaps I do not show, from
that sense of weakness and utter inadequacy to my work which
never ceases to attend me while I am engaged upon these subjects.

1 Mr. Gladstone on Lord Houghton's Life; Speaker^ Nov. 29, 1800.
» Gleanings, vii. p. 183.

AS OBATOB 191

... I wish you knew the state of total impotence to which I CHAP,
should be reduced if there were no echo to the accents of my own ^ ^' ^
voice. I go through my labour, such as it is, not by a genuine ^j^ 3^^
elasticity of spirit, but by a plodding movement only just able to
contend with inert force, and in the midst of a life which indeed
has little claim to be called active, yet is broken this way and that
into a thousand small details, certainly unfavourable to calm and
continuity of thought.

Here we have a glimpse of a singular vein peculiarly rare in
ardent genius at thirty, but disclosing its traces in Mr.
Gladstone even in his ripest years.

Was this the instinct of the orator? For it was in the
noble arts of oratory that nature had been most lavish, and
in them he rose to be consummate. The sympathy and
assent of which he speaks are a part of oratorical inspiration,
and even if such sympathy be but superficial, the highest
efforts of oratorical genius take it for granted. ^ The work of
the orator,' he once wrote, *' from its very inception is inextri-
cably mixed up with practice. It is cast in the mould offered
to him by the mind of his hearers. It is an influence prin-
cipally received from his audience (so to speak) in vapour,
which he pours back upon them in a flood. The sympathy
and concurrence of his time, is, with his own mind, joint
parent of the work. He cannot follow nor frame ideals : his
choice is, to be what his age will have him, what it requires
in order to be moved by him ; or else not to be at all.' ^

Among Mr. Gladstone's physical advantages for bearing

the orator's sceptre were a voice of singular fulness, depth,

and variety of tone ; a falcon's eye with strange imperious

flash; features mobile, expressive, and with lively play; a

great actor's command of gesture, bold, sweeping, natural,

unforced, without exaggeration or a trace of melodrama.

His pose was easy, alert, erect. To these endowments of

external mien was joined the gift and the glory of words.

They were not sought, they came. Whether the task were

reasoning or exposition or expostulation, the copious springs

never failed. Nature had thus done much for him, but he

1 Homeric Studies, vol. iii.

192 CHABACTERISTIC8

superadded ungrudging labour. Later in life he proffered to
a correspondent a set of suggestions on the art of speaking : —

^^^' 1. Study plainness of language, always preferring the simpler
word. 2. Shortness of sentences. 3. Distinctness of articulation.
4. Test and queskon your own arguments beforehand, not wait-
ing for critic or opponent. 5. Seek a thorough digestion of, and
familiarity with, your subject, and rely mainly on these to prompt
the proper words. 6. Remember that if you are to sway an
audience you must besides thinking out your matter, watch them
all along. —(March 20, 1875.)

The first and second of these rules hardly fit his own style.

Yet he had seriously studied from early days the devices of a

speaker's training. I find copied into a little note-book many

of the precepts and maxims of Quintilian on the making of

an orator. So too from Cicero's De Oratore^ including the

words put into the mouth of Catulus, that nobody can attain

the glory of eloquence without the height of zeal and toil and

knowledge.^ Zeal and toil and knowledge, working with an

inborn faculty of powerful expression — here was the double

clue. He never forgot the Ciceronian truth that the orator is

not made by the tongue alone, as if it were a sword sharpened

on a whetstone or hammered on an anvil ; but by having

a mind well filled with a free supply of high and various

matter.^ His eloquence was * inextricably mixed up with

practice.' An old whig listening to one of his budget

speeches, said with a touch of bitterness, * Ah, Oxford on the

surface, but Liverpool below.' No bad combination. He

once had a lesson from Sir Robert Peel. Mr. Gladstone,

being about to reply in debate, turned to his chief and

said: 'Shall I be short and concise?' *No,' was the answer,

*be long and diffuse. It is all important in the House

of Commons to state your case in many different ways, so as

to produce an effect on men of many ways of thinking.'

In discussing Macaulay, Sir Francis Baring, an able and

unbiassed judge, advised a junior (1860) about patterns for

^ Book ii. § 80, 363. maximarum remm et plorimaram

>Non enim solum acuenda nobis suavitate, copia, varietate. Cioero,

neque procudenda lingua est, sed De Orat.^ iii. § 30.

onerandum complenduinque pectus

AS OfiATOB 198

the parliamentary aspirant: — 'Gladstone is to my mind a CHAP.
much better model for speaking; I mean he is happier in y j

joining great eloquence and selection of words and rhetoric, ^j. 31.
if jou will, with a style not a bit above debate. It does not
smell of the oil. Of course there has been plenty of labour,
and that not of to-day but during a whole life.' Nothing
could be truer. Certainly for more than the first forty years
of his parliamentary existence, he cultivated a style not above
debate, though it was debate of incomparable force and
brilliance. When simpletons say, as if this were to dispose
of every higher claim for him, that he worked all his won-
ders by his gifts as orator, do they ever think what power
orer such an assembly as the House of Commons signifies ?
Here — and it was not until he had been for thirty years and
more in parliament that he betook himself largely to the efforts
of the platform — here he was addressing men of the world,
some of them the flower of English education and intellectual
accomplishment; experts in all the high practical lines of
life, bankers, merchants, lawyers, captains of industry in every
walk ; men trained in the wide experience and high responsi-
bilities of public ofiice ; lynx-eyed rivals and opponents. Is
this the scene, or were these the men, for the triumphs of the
barren rhetorician and the sophist, whose words have no true
relation to the facts ? Where could general mental strength
be better tested ? As a matter of history most of those who
have held the place of leading minister in the House of
Commons have hardly been orators at all, any more than
Washington and Jefferson were orators. Mr. Gladstone con-
quered the house, because he was saturated with a subject
and its arguments ; because he could state and enforce his
case; because he plainly believed every word he said, and
earnestly wished to press the same belief into the minds of
bis hearers ; finally because he was from the first an eager
tod a powerful athlete. The man who listening to his adver-
»»ry asks of his contention, ' Is this true ? ' is a lost debater ;
pstas a soldier would be lost who on the day of battle should
^tlunk him that the enemy's cause might after all perhaps
^ just. The debater does not ask, ' Is this true ? ' He asks,
*What is the answer to this ? How can I most surely floor

TOL. I — o

194 GHABACTEBISTIC8

him ? ' Lord Coleridge inquired of Mr. Gladstone whether he
eyer felt nervous in public speaking: ^In opening a subject
1840. often,! Mr. Gladstone answered, *in reply never.' Yet with
this inborn readiness for combat, nobody was less addicted to
aggression or provocation. It was with him a salutary maxim
that, if you have impalatable opinions to declare, you should
not make them more unpalatable by the way of expressing
them. In his earlier years he did not often speak with
passion. * This morning,' a famous divine once said, ' I
preached a sermon all flames.' Mr. Gladstone sometimes
made speeches of that cast, but not frequently, I think, until
the seventies. Meanwhile he impressed the House by his
nobility, his sincerity, his simplicity ; for there is plenty of
evidence besides Mr. Gladstone's case, that simplicity of
character is no hindrance to subtlety of intellect.

Contemporaries in these opening years describe his parlia-
mentary manners as much in his favour. His countenance,
they say, is mild and pleasant, and has a high intellectual
expression. His eyes are clear and quick. His eyebrows are
dark and rather prominent. There is not a dandy in the
House but envies his fine head of jet-black hair. Mr. Glad-
stone's gesture is varied, but not violent. When he rises, he
generally puts both his hands behind his back, and having
there suffered them to embrace each other for a short time, he
unclasps them, and allows them to drop on either side. They
are not permitted to remain long in that locality before you
see them again closed together, and hanging down before
him.^ Other critics say that his air and voice are too abstract,
and 'you catch the sound as though he were communing
with himself. It is as though you saw a bright picture
through a filmy veil. His countenance, without being
strictly handsome, is highly intellectual. His pale com-
plexion, slightly tinged with olive, and dark hair, cut rather
close to his head, with an eye of remarkable depth, still more
impress you with the abstracted character of his disposition.
The expression of his face would be sombre were it not for
the striking eye, which has a remarkable fascination. His
triumphs as a debater are achieved not by the aid of the
1 The British Senate, by James Grant, vol. ii. pp. 88-92.

ACnON HIS FIELD 195

mssions, as with Sir James Graham, or with Mr. Sheil ; not
>f prejudice and fallacy, as with Robert Peel ; not with imagi-
lation and high seductive colouring, as with Mr. Macaulay : jg^^^l
3ut — of pure reason. He prevails by that subdued eamest-
aess which results from deep religious feelings, and is not
Stted for the more usual and more stormy functions of a
public speaker.' 1

m

We are not to think of him as prophet, seer, poet, founder
of a system, or great bom man of letters like Gibbon, Mac-
aulay, Carlyle. Of these characters he was none, though he
had warmth and height of genius to comprehend the value
of them all, and — what was more curious — his oratory and
Ills acts touched them and their work in such a way that men
were always tempted to apply to him standards that belonged
to them. His calling was a different one, and he was wont to
appraise it lower. His field lay ' in working the institutions of
his country.' Whether he would have played a part as splendid
in the position of a high ruling ecclesiastic, if the times had
allowed such a personage, we cannot tell ; perhaps he had not
'imperious immobility ' enough. Nor whether he would have
made a judge of the loftier order ; perhaps his mind was too
addicted to subtle distinctions, and not likely to give a solid
adherence to broad principles of law. A superb advocate ?
An evangelist, as irresistible as Wesley or as Whitefield?
What matters it? All agree that more magnificent power of
mind was never placed at the service of the British Senate.
His letters to his father from 1832 onwards show all the
interest of a keen young member in his calling, though they
contain few anecdotes, or tales, or vivid social traits. * Of
political gossip,' he admits to his father (1843), 'you always
find me barren enough.' What comes out in all his letters
to his kinsfolk is his unbounded willingness to take trouble
in order to spare others. Even in prolonged and intricate
Bioney transactions, of which we shall see something later —

^ Anatomy of Parliament, November 1840. * Contemporary Orators,* in
^wr'f Magazine.

196 CHABACTEBISTIOS

transactions of all others the most apt to produce irritation —
not an accent of impatience or dispute escapes him, though
1840. ^^^ guarded firmness of his language marks the steadfast
self-control. We may say of Mr. Gladstone that nobody ever
had less to repent of from that worst waste in human life
that comes of unkindness. Kingsley noticed, with some
wonder, how he never allowed the magnitude and multiplicity
of his labours to excuse him from any of the minor charities
and courtesies of life.

Active hatred of cruelty, injustice, and oppression is perhaps
the main difference between a good man and a bad one ; and
here Mr. Gladstone was sublime. Yet though anger burned
fiercely in liim over wrong, nobody was more chary of passing
moral censures. What he said of himself in 1842, when he
was three and thirty, held good to the end : —

Nothing grows upon me so much with lengthening life as the
sense of the difficulties, or rather the impossibilities, with which "we
are beset whenever we attempt to take to ourselves the functions
of the Eternal Judge (except in reference to ourselves where judg-
ment is committed to us), and to form any accurate idea of relative
merit and demerit, good and evil, in actions. The shades of the
rainbow are not so nice, and the sands of the sea-shore are not
such a multitude, as are all the subtle, shifting, blending forms of
thought and of circumstances that go to determine the character
of us and of our acts. But there is One that seeth plainly and
judgeth righteously.

This was only one side of Mr. Gladstone's many silences.
To talk of the silences of the most copious and incessant
speaker and writer of his time may seem a paradox. Yet in
this fluent orator, this untiring penman, this eager and most
sociable talker at the dinner-table or on friendly walks, was &
singular faculty of self-containment and reserve. Quick ta
notice, as he was, and acutely observant of much that might 4
have been expected to escape him, he still kept as much ■
locked up within as he so liberally gave out. Bulwer Lytton ^
was at one time, as is well known, addicted to the study of
mediaeval magic, occult power, and the conjunctions of the
heavenly bodies; and among other figures he one daj

HIS SILENCES 197

unused himself by casting the horoscope of Mr. Gladstone
(^1860). To him the astrologer's son sent it. Like most of
mch things, the horoscope has one or two ingenious hits and j^] 31^
\ dozen nonsensical misses. But one curious sentence
declares Mr. Gladstone to be ^o^ heart a sotitary man.*
Here I have often thought that the stars knew what they
were about.

Whether Mr. Gladstone ever became what is called a good
judge of men it would be hard to say. Such characters
are not common even among parliamentary leaders. They
do not always care to take the trouble. The name is too
commonly reserved for those who think dubiously or down-
right ill of their fellow-creatures. Those who are accus-
tomed to make most of knowing men, do their best to convince
us that men are hardly worth knowing. This was not
ilr. Gladstone's way. Like Lord Aberdeen, he had a marked
habit of believing people ; it was part of his simplicity. His
life was a curious union of ceaseless contention and inviolable
charity — a true charity, having nothing in common with a
lazy spirit of unconcern. He knew men well enough, at
least, to have found out that none gains such ascendency over
them as he who appeals to what is the nobler part in human
nature. Nestors of the whigs used to wonder how so much
imagination, invention, courage, knowledge, diligence — all
the qualities that seem to make an orator and a statesman —
could be neutralised by the want of a sound overruling judg-
ment. They said that Gladstone's faculties were like an
army without a general, or a jury without guidance from the
bench.^ Yet when the time came, this army without a general
won the crowning victories of the epoch, and for twenty years
the chief findings of this jury without a judge proved to be
the verdicts of the nation.

It is not easy for those less extraordinarily constituted, to
realise the vigour of soul that maintained an inner life in all
its absorbing exaltation day after day, year after year, decade
after decade, amid the ever-swelling rush of urgent secular
affairs. Immersed in active responsibility for momentous

J Lord Lansdowne to Senior (1856), in Mrs. Simpson's Many Memories^
p. 226.

1840.

198 CHABACTEBISnCS

BOOK secular things, he never lost the breath of what was to him
^ ^ ^ a diviner aether. Habitually he strove for the lofty uplands
where political and moral ideas meet. Even in those days he
struck all who came into contact with him by a goodness and
elevation that matched the activity and power of his mind.
His political career might seem doubtful, but there was no
doubt about the man. One of the most interesting of his
notes about his own growth is this : —

There was a singular slowness in the development of my mind,
so far as regarded its opening into the ordinary aptitudes of the
man of the world. For years and years well into advanced middle
life, I seem to have considered actions simply as they were in
themselves, and did not take into account the way in which they
would be taken and understood by others. I did not perceive
that their natural or probable effect upon minds other than my
own formed part of the considerations determining the propriety
of each act in itself, and not unfrequently, at any rate in public
life, supplied the decisive criterion to determine what ought and
what ought not to be done. In truth the dominant tendencies of
my mind were those of a recluse, and I might, in most respects
with ease, have accommodated myself to the education of the
cloister. All the mental apparatus requisite to constitute the
'public man' had to be purchased by a slow experience and
inserted piecemeal into the composition of my character.

Lord Malmesbury describes himself in 1844 as curious to
see Mr. Gladstone, ^ for he is a man much spoken of as one
who will come to the front.' He was greatly disappointed
at his personal appearance, ' which is that of a Roman catholic
ecclesiastic, but he is very agreeable.' ^ Few men can have
been more perplexed, and few perhaps more perplexing, as
the social drama of the capital was in time unfolded to his
gaze. There he beheld the glitter of rank and station, and
palaces, and men and women bearing famous names;
worlds within worlds, high diplomatic figures, the partisan
leaders, the constant stream of agitated rumours about
weighty affairs in England and Europe; the keen play of
ambition, passions, interests, under easy manners and fugitive
1 Malmesbury, Memoirs of an Ex-Minister, i. p. 166.

THE SOCIAL DRAMA 199

pleasantry ; gross and sordid aims, as King Hudson was soon
to find out, masked by exterior refinement; so much kind-
ness with a free spice of criticism and touches of ill-nature ; jet]^81.
so much of the governing force of England still gathered into
a few great houses, exclusive and full of pride, and yet, after
the astounding discovery that in spite of the deluge of the
Reform bill they were still alive as the directing class, always
80 open to political genius if likely to climb, and help them
to climb, into political power. These were the last high da3rs
of the undisputed sway of territorial aristocracy in England.
The artificial scene was gay and captivating ; but much in it
was well fitted to make serious people wonder. Queen
Victoria was assuredly not of the harsh fibre of the misan-
thropist in Molidre's fine comedy ; yet she once said a strange
and deep thing to an archbishop. ^ As I get older,' she said,
*I cannot understand the world. I cannot comprehend its
littlenesses. When I look at the frivolities and littlenesses,
it seems to me as if they were all a little mad.' ^

This was the stage on which Mr. Gladstone, with 'the
dominant tendencies of a recluse' and a mind that might
easily have been 'accommodated to the cloister,' came to
play his part, — in which he was 'by a slow experience' to
insert piecemeal tlie mental apparatus proper to the character
of the public man. Yet it was not among the booths and
merchandise and hubbub of Vanity Fair, it was among strata
in the community but little recognised as yet, that he was to
find the field and the sources of his highest power. His view
of the secular world was never fastidious or unmanly. Look-
ing back upon his long experience of it he wrote (1894) : —

That political life considered as a profession has great dangers

for the inner and tnie life of the human being, is too obvious. It

has, however, some redeeming qualities. In the first place, I have

never known, and can hardly conceive, a finer school of temper

than the House of Commons. A lapse in this respect is on the

instant an offence, a jar, a wound, to every member of the

assembly ; and it brings its own punishment on the instant, like

the sins of the Jews under the old dispensation. Again, I think

^ Life, of Archbishop Benson, ii. p. 11.

200 CHARACTERISTICS

the imperious nature of the subjects, their weight and force,
demanding the entire strength of a man and all his faculties, leave
1840. ^^°^ ^^ residue, at least for the time, to apply to self-regard ; no
more than there is for a swimmer swimming for his life. He must,
too, in retrospect feel himself to be so very small in comparison
with the themes and the interests of which he has to treat. It is
a further advantage if his occupation be not mere debate, but
debate ending in work. For in this way, whether the work be
legislative or administrative, it is continually tested by results,
and he is enabled to strip away his extravagant anticipations, his
fallacious conceptions, to perceive his mistakes, and to reduce his
estimates to the reality. No politician has any excuse for being
vain.

Like the stoic emperor, Mr. Gladstone had in his heart the
feeling that the man is a runaway who deserts the exercise
of civil reason.

IV

All his activities were in his own mind one. This, we can
hardly repeat too often, is the fundamental fact of Mr. Glad-
stone's history. Political life was only part of his religious
life. It was religion that prompted his literary life. It was
religious motive that, through a thousand avenues and chan-
nels stirred him and guided him in his whole conception of
active social duty, including one pitiful field of which I may
say something later. The liberalism of the continent at
this epoch was in its essence either hostile to Christianity or
else it was indifferent ; and when men like Lamennais tried
to play at the same time the double part of tribune of the
people and catholic theocrat, they failed. The old world of
pope and priest and socialist and red cap of liberty fought
on as before. In England, too, the most that can be said
of the leading breed of the political reformers of that half
century, with one or two most notable exceptions, is that
they were theists, and not all of them were even so much as
theists.^ If liberalism had continued to run in the grooves
out by Bentham, James Mill, Grote, and the rest, Mr. Glad-

1 tim noble aati-filayery movement directly comiected with evangeli-
HL lor it was very calism.

BELI6I0N THE MAINSPEING 201

me would never have grown to be a liberal. He was not

CHbIj a fervid practising Christian ; he was a Christian steeped

mn the fourth century, steeped in the thirteenth and four- ^31,

%eenth centuries. Every man of us has all the centuries in

Sum, though their operations be latent, dim, and very various ;

ixi his case the roots were as unmistakeable as the leafage,

fjie blossom, and the fruits. A little later than the date with

-vrhich we are now dealing (May 9, 1854) — and here the date

snatters little, for the case was always the same — he noted

nvliat in hours of strain and crisis the Bible was to him : —

On most occasions of very sharp pressure or trial, some word

of scripture has come home to me as if borne on angels' wings.

Many could I recollect. The Psalms are the great storehouse.

^Perhaps I should put some down now, for the continuance of

memory is not to be trusted. 1. In the winter of 1837, Psalm

128. This came in a most singular manner, but it would be a

long story to tell. 2. In the Oxford contest of 1847 (which was

▼ery harrowing) the verse — '0 Lord God, Thou strength of my

kealth. Thou hast covered my head in the day of battle.' 3. In

\ the Grorham contest, after the judgment : ' And though all this be

f come upon us, yet do we not forget Thee ; nor behave ourselves

* frowardly in Thy covenant. Our heart is not turned back ; neither

onr steps gone out of Thy way. No not when Thou hast smitten

ns into the place of dragons : and covered us with the shadow of

death.' 4. On Monday, April 17, 1853 [his first budget speech],

it was : ' O turn Thee then unto me, and have mercy upon me :

. give Thy strength unto Thy servant, and help the son of Thine

handmaid.' Last Sunday [Crimean war budget] it was not from

- the Psalms for the day : ' Thou shalt prepare a table before me

^ against them that trouble me ; Thou hast anointed my head with

oil and my cup shall be full.'

In that stage at least he had shaken off none of the grip
of tradition, in which his book and college training had
placed him. His mind still had greater faith in things
because Aristotle or Augustine said them, than because they
are true.^ If the end of education be to teach independence
of mind, the Socratic temper, the love of pushing into unex-
1 Panita, i, p. 64.

It

202 GHABACTBRISTIOS

plored areas — intellectual curiosity in a word — Oxford had done
none of all this for him. In every field of thought and life he
1840. started from the principle of authority ; it fitted in with his
reverential instincts, his temperament, above all, his education.
The lifelong enthusiasm for Dante should on no account
in this place be left out. In Mr. Gladstone it was some-
thing very different from casual dilettantism or the accident
of a scholar's taste. He was alwajrs alive to the grandeur
of Goethe's words, Im Q-amen^ Guten^ Wahren, resolut
zu leben^ 'In wholeness, goodness, truth, strenuously to
live.' But it was in Dante — active politician and thinker
as well as poet — that he found this unity of thought and
coherence of life, not only illuminated by a sublime
imagination, but directly associated with theology, philo-
sophy, politics, history, sentiment, duty. Here are all the
elements and interests that lie about the roots of the
life of a man, and of the general civilisation of the world.
This ever memorable picture of the mind and heart of
Europe in the great centuries of the catholic age, — making
heaven the home of the human soul, presenting the natural
purposes of mankind in their universality of good and
evil, exalted and mean, piteous and hateful, tragedy and
farce, all commingled as a living whole, — was exactly fitted
to the quality of a genius so rich and powerful as Sir.
Gladstone's in the range of its spiritual intuitions and in
its masculine grasp of all the complex truths of mortal
nature. So true and real a book is it, he once said, — such a
record of practical humanity and of the discipline of the
soul amidst its wonderful poetical intensity and imaginative
power. In him this meant no spurious revivalism, no
flimsy and fantastic affectation. It was the real and
energetic discovery in the vivid conception and commanding
structure of Dante, of a light, a refuge, and an inspiration in
the labours of the actual world. ' You have been good
enough,' he once wrote to an Italian correspondent (1883),
* to call that supreme poet " a solemn master " for me. These
are not empty words. The reading of Dante is not merely
a pleasure, a tour deforce^ or a lesson ; it is a vigorous dis-
cipline for the heart, the intellect, the whole man. In the

PLAGE OF DAl^TE IN HIS MIND 203

school of Dante I have learned a great part of that mental CHAP,
provision (however insignificant it may be) which has ^ ^^ ,
served me to make the journey of human life up to the ^^q, 31^
term of nearly seventy-three years.' He once asked of an
accomplished woman possessing a scholar's breadth of read-
ing, what poetry she most lived with. She named Dante
for one. ' But what of Dante ? ' ' The Paradise,' she replied.
* Ah, that is right,' he exclaimed, * that's my test.' In the
Paradiso it was, that he saw in beams of cr}rstal radiance
the ideal of the unity of the religious mind, the love and
admiration for the high unseen things of which the Christian
church ^\'as to him the sovereign embodiment. The mediaeval
spirit, it is true, wears something of a ghostly air in the light
of our new day. This attempt, which has been made many
a time before, 'to* unify two ages,' did not carry men far in
the second half of the nineteenth century. Nevertheless it
were an idle dream to think that the dead hand of Dante's
century, and all that it represented, is no longer to be taken
into account by those who would be governors of men.
Meanwhile, let us observe once more that the statesman
who had drunk most deeply from the mediaeval fountains was
yet one of the supreme leaders of his own generation in a
notable stage of the long transition from mediaeval to modem.
* At Oxford,' he records, 'I read Rousseau's Social Contract
which had no influence upon me, and the writings of Burke
which had a great deal.' Yet the day came when he too was
drawn by the movement of things into the flaming circle of
thought, feeling, phrase, that in romance and politics and all
the ways of life Europe for a century associated with the name
of Rousseau. There was what men call Rousseau in a states-
man who could talk of men's common 'flesh and blood' in
connection with a franchise bill. Indeed one of the strangest
things in Mr. Gladstone's growth and career is this unconscious
raising of a partially Rousseauite structure on the foundations
laid by Burke, to whom Rousseau was of all writers on the
nature of man and the ordering of states the most odious
and contemptible. We call it strange, though such amalgams
of contrary ways of thinking and feeling are more com-
mon than careless observers may suppose. Mr. Gladstone

204 CHABACTEBISTICS

was never an ^ equalitarian,' but the passion for simplicity he
had — simplicity in life, manners, feeling, conduct, the rela-
1840. tions of men to men; dislike of luxury and profusion and
all the fabric of artificial and factitious needs. It may well
be that he went no further for all this than the Sermon on
the Mount, where so many secret elements of social volcano
slumber. However we may choose to trace the sources and
relations of Mr. Gladstone's general ideas upon the political
problems of his time, what he said of himself in the evening
of his day was at least true of its dawn and noon. ^I am
for old customs and traditions,' he wrote, ^against needless
change. I am for the individual as against the state. I am
for the family and the stable family as against the state.'
He must have been in eager sympathy with Wordsworth's
line taken from old Spenser in these very days, ' Perilous is
sweeping change, all chance unsound.' ^ Finally and above
all, he stood firm in ^the old Christian faith.' Life was to
him in all its aspects an application of Christian teaching
and example. If we like to put it so, he was steadfast for
making politics more human, and no branch of civilised life
needs humanising more.

Here we touch the question of questions. At nearly every
page of Mr. Gladstone's active career the vital problem stares
us in the face, of the correspondence between the rule of
private morals and of public. Is the rule one and the same
for individual and for state ? From these early years onwards^
Mr. Gladstone's whole language and the moods that it
produces, — his vivid denunciations, his sanguine expectations
his rolling epithets, his aspects and appeals and points c^
view, — all take for granted that right and wrong depend cur
the same set of maxims in public life and private. T^Z
puzzle will often greet us, and here it is enough to glance
it. In every statesman's case it arises ; in Mr. Gladstone'^
is cardinal and fundamental.

V

To say that he had drawn prizes in what is called the
lottery of life would not be untrue; but just as true is it

1 * Blest statesman he, whose mind^s unselfish will* (1S38). — Knight's
Wordsworth, viii. p. 101.

MAXIMS OF OBDEBED LIFE 205

that one of those very prizes was the determined conviction
that life is no lottery at all, but a serious business worth
taking infinite pains upon. To one of his sons at Oxford ^^^
he wrote a little paper of suggestions that are the actual
description of his own lifelong habit and unbroken
practice.

StratJioonan, Oct. 7, 1872. — 1. To keep a short joximal of principal
employments in each day : most valuable as an account-book of
tlie all-precious gift of Time.

2. To keep also an account-book of receipt and expenditure ;
and the least troublesome way of keeping it is to keep it with
care. This done in early life, and carefully done, creates the
habit of performing the great duty of keeping our expenditure
(and therefore our desires) within our means.

3. Bead attentively (and it is pleasant reading) Taylor's essay
on Money,* which if I have not done it already, I will give
yoa. It is most healthy and most useful reading.

4. Establish a minimum number of hours in the day for study,
say seven at present, and do not without reasonable cause let it be
less; noting down against yourself the days of exception. There
should also be a minimum niunber for the vacations, which at
Oxford are extremely long.

5. There arises an important question about Sundays. Though
ve should to the best of our power avoid secular work on Sundays,
it does not follow that the mind should remain idle. There is an
immense field of knowledge connected with religion, and much of
it is of a kind that will be of use in the schools and in relation
to your general studies. In these days of shallow scepticism, so
widely spread, it is more than ever to be desired that we should
be able to give a reason for the hope that is in us.

6. As to duties directly religious, such as daily prayer in the
morning and evening, and daily reading of some portion of the
Holy Scriptiu*e, or as to the holy ordinances of the gospel, there
is little need, I am confident, to advise you ; one thing, however,
1 would say, that it is not difl&cult, and it is most beneficial,
to cultivate the habit of inwardly turning the thoughts to God,
though but for a moment in the course or during the intervals of

1 The first chapter in Sir Henry Taylor's Notes from Life (1847).

206 CHABACTERISTICS

our business ; which continually presents occasions requiring His
aid and guidance.

1840 ^- Turning again to ordinary duty, I know no precept more

wide or more valuable than this : cultivate self-help ; do not seek
nor like to be dependent upon others for what you can yourself
supply ; and keep down as much as you can the standard of your
wants, for in this lies a great secret of manliness, true wealth, and
happiness ; as, on the other hand, the multiplication of our wants
makes us effeminate and slavish, as well as selfish.

8. In regard to money as well as to time, there is a great
advantage in its methodical use. Especially is it wise to dedicate
a certain portion of our means to purposes of charity and religion,
and this is more easily begun in youth than in after life. The
greatest advantage of making a little fund of this kind is that
when we are asked to give, the competition is not between self on
the one hand and charity on the other, but between the different
purposes of religion and charity with one another, among which
we ought to make the most careful choice. It is desirable that
the fund thus devoted should not be less than one-tenth of our
means ; and it tends to bring a blessing on the rest.

9. Besides giving this, we should save something, so as to be
before the world, i.e. to have some preparation to meet the acci-
dents and unforeseen calls of life as well as its general future.

Fathers are generally wont to put their better mind into
counsels to their sons. In this instance the counsellor
was the living pattern of his own maxims. His account-
books show in full detail that he never at any time in his
life devoted less than a tenth of his annual incomings to
charitable and religious objects. The peculiarity of all this
half-mechanic ordering of a wise and virtuous individual
life, was that it went with a genius and power that * moulded
a mighty State's decrees,' and sought the widest ^ process of
the suns.'

VI

Once more, his whole temper and spirit turned to practice.
His thrift of time, his just and regulated thrift in money,
his hatred of waste, were only matched by his eager and

f

MENTAL OBOWTH 207

minute attention in affairs of public business. He knew how

to be content with small savings of hours and of material

lesources. He was not downcast if progress were slow. In iBr.^di.

watching public opinion, in feeling the pulse of a cabinet,

in softening the heart of a colleague, even when skies were

gloomiest, he was almost provokingly anxious to detect signs

of encouragement that to others were imperceptible. He

was of the mind of the Roman emperor, ^ Hope not for the

republic of Plato; but be content with ever so small an

adYance, and look on even that as a gain worth having.' ^

A commonplace, but not one of the commonplaces that are

ah'avs laid to heart.

If faith was one clue, then next to faith was growth. The
fundamentals of Christian dogma, so far as I know and am
entitled to speak, are the only region in which Mr. Gladstone's
opinions have no history. Everywhere eke we look upon
incessant movement ; in views about church and state, tests,
national schools ; in questions of economic and fiscal policy ;
in relations with party ; in the questions of popular govern-
ment— in every one of these wide spheres of public interest
he passes from crisis to crisis. The dealings of church and
state made the first of these marked stages in the history of
his opinions and his life, but it was only the beginning.

I was born with smaller natural endowments than you, he wrote
to his old friend Sir Francis Doyle (1880), and I had also a
narrower early training. But my life has certainly been remark-
able for the mass of continuous and searching experience it has
brought me ever since I began to pass out of boyhood. I have been
feeling my way ; owing little to living teachers, but enormously
to four dead ones* (over and above the four gospels). It has
Wn experience which has altered my politics. My toryism was
accepted by me on authority and in good faith ; I did my best to
fiirht for it. But if you choose to examine my parliamentary life
you will find that on every subject as I came to deal with it
practically, I had to deal with it as a liberal elected in '32.
1 began with slavery in 1833, and was commended by the liberal

^ Marcus Aurelins, ix. p. 29. tells Manning, * are doctors to the

* Aristotle, Augustine, Dante, speculative man ; would they were
Butler. *My four ** doctors,"' he such to the practical too I '

208 CHABAOTEBISTIGS

minister, Mr. Stanley. I took to colonial subjects principally,
and iij 1837 was commended for treating them liberally by Lord
1840. Russell. Then Sir E. Peel carried me into trade, and before I had
been six months in office, I wanted to resign because I thought
his com law reform insufficient. In ecclesiastical policy I had
been a speculator; but if you fchoose to refer to a speech of
Shell's in 1844 on the Dissenters' Chapels bill,^ you will find him
describing me as predestined to be a champion of religious equal-
ity. All this seems to show that I have changed under the
teaching of experience.

And much later he wrote of himself : —

The stock in trade of ideas with which I set out on the career -
of parliamentary life was a small one. I do not think the general^
tendencies of my mind were even in the time of my youth illiberal^
It was a great accident that threw me into the anti-liberal attk^
tude, but having taken it up I held to it with energy. It was tk^
accident of the Reform bill of 1831. For teachers or idols c^
both in politics I had had Mr. Burke and Mr. Canning,
followed them in their dread of reform, and probably caricatur^^^
them as a raw and unskilled student caricatures his master. Tk::^-^
one idea on which they were anti-liberal became the master-key^ ^f
the situation, and absorbed into itself for the time the wholfe of
politics. This, however, was not my only disadvantage. I li^i^f
been educated in an extremely narrow churchmanship, that of
the evangelical party. This narrow churchmanship too readily
embraced the idea that the extension of representative principles,
which was then the essential work of liberalism, was associated
with irreligion; an idea quite foreign to my older sentiment
on behalf of Roman catholic emancipation. (Autobiographic notef
July 22, 1894.)

VII

Notwithstanding his humility, his willingness within
certain range to leam, his profound reverence for what
took for truth, he was no more ready than many far infe
men to discern a certain important rule of intellectual
that was expressed in a quaint figure by one of oui
1 See below, p. 323.

LIMITATIONS OF INTEREST 209

English sages. ^ He is a wonderful man,' said the sage, ' that
ran thread a needle when he is at cudgels in a crowd ; and yet
this is as easy as to find Truth in the hurry of disputation.' ^ jetIsi.
The strenuous member of parliament, the fervid minister
fighting the clauses of his bill, the disputant in cabinet, when
he passed from man of action to the topics of balanced
thought, nice scrutiny, long meditation, did not always
succeed in getting his thread into the needle's eye.

As to the problems of the metaphysician, Mr. Gladstone
showed little curiosity. Nor for abstract discussion in its
highest shape — for investigation of ultimate propositions —
had he any of that power of subtle and ingenious reasoning
which was often so extraordinary when he came to deal with
the concrete, the historic, and the demonstrable. A still more
singular limitation on the extent of his intellectual curiosity
was hardly noticed at this early epoch. The scientific move-
ment, which along with the gprowth of democracy and the
growth of industrialism formed the three propelling forces
of a new age, — was not yet developed in all its range. The
astonishing discoveries in the realm of natural science, and
the philosophic speculations that were built upon them,
though quite close at hand, were still to come. Darwin's
Orvjin of Species^ for example, was not given to the world
until 1859. Mr. Gladstone watched these things vaguely
and with misgiving ; instinct must have told him that the
advance of natural explanation, whether legitimately or not,
^ould be in some degree at the expense of the supernatural.
But from any full or serious examination of the details of the
scientific movement he stood aside, safe and steadfast within
tbe citadel of Tradition.

He was once asked to subscribe to a memorial of Tyndale,
the translator of the Bible,^ and he put his refusal upon
grounds that show one source at least of his scruple about
^ords. He replies that he has been driven to a determina-
tion to renounce all subscriptions for the commemoration of
ancient worthies, as he finds that he cannot signify gratitude

^ GlanviUe's Vanity of Dogmatis- 2 gee Shaftesbury's Life, iii. p. 405.
/'?7. He refused to be on a committee for

a memorial to Thirlwall. (1875.)

VOL. I P

210 CHABACTEBI8TICS

for services rendered, without being understood to sanction
all that they have said or done, and thus becoming involved
1840. ^^ controversy or imputation about them. 'I am often
amazed,' he goes on, ^ at the construction put upon my acts
and words ; but experience has shown me that they are com-
monly put under the microscope, and then found to contain
all manner of horrors, like the animalcules in Thames water.'
This microscope was far too valuable an instrument in the con-
tentions of party, ever to be put aside ; and the animalcules,
duly magnified to the frightful size required, were turned into
first-rate electioneering agents. Even without party micro-
scopes, those who feel most warmly for Mr. Gladstone's mani-
fold services to his countrj^, may often wish that he had
inscribed in letters of gold over the door of the Temple of
Peace, a certain sentence from the wise oracles of his favour-
ite Butler. ' For the conclusion of this,' said the bishop, ' let
me just take notice of the danger of over-great refinements;
of going beside or beyond the plain, obvious first appearances
of things, upon the subject of morals and religion.'^ Nor
would he have said less of politics. It is idle to ignore in
Mr. Gladstone's style an over-refining in words, an excess of
qualifying propositions, a disproportionate impressiveness in
verbal shadings without real difference. Nothing irritated
opponents more. They insisted on taking literary sin for
moral obliquity, and because men could not understand, they
assumed that he wished to mislead. Yet if we remember
how carelessness in words, how the slovenly combination
under the same name of things entirely different, how the
taking for granted as matter of positive proof what is at the
most only possible or barely probable — when we think of all
the mischief and folly that has been wrought in the world by
loose habits of mind that are almost as much the master
vice of the head as selfishness is the master vice of the heart,
men may forgive Mr. Gladstone for what passed as sophistry
and subtlety, but was in truth scruple of conscience in that
region where lack of scruple half spoils the world.

This peculiar trait was connected with another that some-
times amused friends, but always exasperated foes. Among
1 First Sermon, Upon Compassion.

VERBAL BEFINIKO 211

the papers is a letter from an illustrious man to Mr.
Gladstone — wickedly no better dated by the writer than
* Saturday/ and no better docketed by the receiver than je^^si.
' T. B. Macaulay, March 1,' — showing that Mr. Gladstone was
just as energetic, say in some year between 1835 and 1850,
in defending the entire consistency between a certain speech
of the dubious date and a speech in 1883, as he ever after-
guards showed himself in the same too familiar process. In
later times he described himself as a sort of purist in what
-touches the consistency of statesmen. * Change of opinion,'
be said, ^ in those to whose judgment the public looks more
or less to assist its own, is an evil to the country, although
A much smaller evil than their persistence in a course which
t,hey know to be wrong. It is not always to be blamed.
Sut it is always to be watched with vigilance ; always to be
challenged and put upon its trial.' ^ To this challenge in
"his own case — and no man of his day was half so often put
upon his trial for inconsistency — he was always most easily
provoked to make a vehement reply. In that process
Air. Gladstone's natural habit of resort to qualifying words,
and his skill in showing that a new attitude could be re-
conciled by strict reasoning with the logical contents of old
dicta, gave him wonderful advantage. His adversary, as he
strode confidently along the smooth grass, suddenly found
himself treading on a serpent; he had overlooked a condition,
a proviso, a word of hypothesis or contingency, that sprang
from its ambush and brought his triumph to naught on the
spot. If Mr. Gladstone had only taken as much trouble that
his hearers should understand exactly what it was that he
meant as he took trouble afterwards to show that his mean-
ing had been grossly misunderstood, all might have been
well. As it was, he seemed to be completely satisfied if he
could only show that two propositions, thought by plain men
to be directly contradictory, were all the time capable on close
construction of being presented in perfect harmony. As if
I had a right to look only to what my words literally mean
or may in good logic be made to mean, and had no concern
at all with what the people meant who used the same words,
1 Gleanings, vii. p. 100, 1868.

.

212 CHABACTEKISTIC8

or with what I might have known that my heareis were aU
the time supposing me to mean. Hope-Scott once wrote
1840. ^ ^^^ (November 24, 1841) : ' We live in a time in which
accurate distinctions, especially in theology, are absolutely
unconsidered. The " common sense " or general tenor of
questions is what alone the majority of men are groided hj.
And I verily believe that semi-arian confessions or any othen
turning upon nicety of thought and expression, would be
for the most part considered as fitter subjects for scholastie
dreamers than for earnest Christians.' In politics at any
rate, Bishop Butler was wiser.

The explanation of what was assailed as inconsistency is
perhaps a double one. In the first place he started on his
journey with an intellectual chart of ideas and principles
not adequate or well fitted for the voyage traced for him by
the spirit of his age. If he held to the inadequate ideas with
which Oxford and Canning and his father and even Feel
had furnished him, he would have been left helpless and
useless in the days stretching before him. The second point
is that the orator of Mr. Gladstone's commanding school
exists by virtue of large and intense expression ; then if
circumstances make him as vehement for one opinion to-day
as he was vehement for what the world regards as a conflict-
ing opinion yesterday, his intellectual self-respect naturally
prompts him to insist that the opinions do not really clash,
but are in fact identical. You may call this a weakness if
you choose, and it certainly involved Mr. Gladstone in much
unfruitful and not very edifying exertion ; but it is at any
rate better than the front of brass that takes any change of
opinion for matter-of-course expedient, as to which the least
said will be soonest mended. And it is better still than the
disastrous self-consciousness that makes a man persist in a
foolish thing to-day, because he chanced to say or do a foolish
thing yesterday.

VIII

In this period of his life, with the battle of the world stall
to come, Mr. Gladstone to whose grave temperament every-
thing, little or great, was matter of deliberate reflection, d

MINOB MORALS 213

duty and scruple, took early note of minor morals as well as chap.
xnajor. Characteristically he found some fault with a sermon ^- ^
of Dr. Wordsworth's upon Saint Barnabas, for j^ ^^

Isjardly pushing the argument for the connection of good manners

-^^th Christianity to the full extent of which it is fairly capable.

'JThe whole system of legitimate courtesy, politeness, and refine-

;xj3ent is surely nothing less than one of the genuine though minor

^^nd often unacknowledged results of the gospel scheme. All the

great moral qualities or graces, which in their large sphere

determine the formation and habits of the Christian soul as

l:>efore God, do also on a smaller scale apply to the very same

-principles in the common intercourse of life, and pervade its

innumerable and separately inappreciable particulars; and the

result of this application is that good breeding which distinguishes

Christian civilisation. (March 31, 1844.)

It is not for us to discuss whether the breeding of Plato or
Gcero or the Arabs of Cordova was better or worse than
the breeding of the eastern bishops at Nicsea or Ephesus.
Good manners, we may be sure, hardly have a single master-
key, unless it be simplicity, or freedom from the curse of affec-
tation. What is certain is that nobody of his time was a finer
example of high good manners and genuine courtesy than
Mr. Gladstone himself. He has left a little sheaf of random
jottings which, without being subtle or recondite, show how
he looked on this side of human things. Here is an example
or two : —

'

ijj

There are a class of passages in Mr. Wilberf orce's JoumalSy e.gr.,

some of those recording his successful speeches, which might in

many men be set down to vanity, but in him are more fairly I

should think ascribable to a singlemindedness which did not

inflate. Surely with most men it is the safest rule, to make scanty

records of success achieved, and yet more rarely to notice praise,

which should pass us like the breeze, enjoyed but not arrested.

There must indeed be some sign, a stone as it were set up, to

remind us that such and such were occasions for thankfulness ;

but should not the memorials be restricted wholly and expressly

for this purpose ? For the fumes of praise are rapidly and fear-

214 CHABACTEBISTIOS

fully intoxicating ; it comes like a spark to the tow if once we
give it, as it were, admission within us. (1838.)
1840. There are those to whom vanity brings more of pain than of
pleasure ; there are also those whom it oftener keeps in the back-
ground, than thrusts forward. The same man who to-day
volunteers for that which he is not called upon to do, may to-
morrow flinch from his obvious duty from one and the same
cause, — vanity, or regard to the appearance he is to make, for its
own sake, and perhaps that vanity which shrinks is a more subtle
and far-sighted, a more ethereal, a more profound vanity than
that which presumes. (1842.)

A question of immense importance meets us in ethical inquiries,
as follows: is there a sense in which it is needful, right, and
praiseworthy, that man should be much habituated to look back
upon himself and keep his eye upon himself; a self-regard, and
even a self-respect, which are compatible with the self-renunciation
and self-distrust which belong to Christianity ? In the observance
of a single distinction we shall And, perhaps, a secure and sufficient
answer. We are to respect our responsibilities, not ourselves.
We are to respect the duties of which we are capable, but not our
capabilities simply considered. There is to be no complacent self-
contemplation, beruminating upon self. When self is viewed, it
must always be in the most intimate connection with its purposes.
How well were it if persons would be more careful, or rather,
more conscientious, in paying compliments. How often do we
delude another, in subject matter small or great, into the belief
that he has done well what we know he has done ill, either by
silence, or by so giving him praise on a particular point as to imply
approbation of the whole. Now it is undoubtedly difficult to
observe politeness in all cases compatibly with truth ; and polite-
ness though a minor duty is a duty still. (1838.)

If truth permits you to praise, but binds you to praise with a
qualification, observe how much more acceptably you will speak,
if you put the qualification first, than if you postpone it. For
example : ' this is a good likeness ; but it is a hard painting,' is
surely much less pleasing, than *this is a hard painting; but it is
a good likeness.' The qualification is generally taken to be more
genuinely the sentiment of the speaker's mind, than the main

SPIBTT OF SUBMISSION 215

proposition ; and it carries ostensible honesty and manliness to CHAP.
propose first what is the less acceptable. (1835-6.) ^ ^^ ^

.St. 81.
IX

To go back to F^nelon's question about his own founda-
tion. ' The great work of religion,' as Mr. Gladstone con-
ceived it, was set out in some sentences of a letter written
bj him to Mrs. Gladstone in 1844, five years after they were
married. In these sentences we see that under all the
agitated surface of a life of turmoil and contention, there
flowed a deep composing stream of faith, obedience, and
resignation, that gave him, in face of a thousand buffets, the
free mastery of all his resources of heart and brain : —

To Mrs. O-ladstone.

13 C S". Tejrace, Sunday evening, Jan, 21, 1844. — Although I
lave carelessly left at the board of trade with your other letters
that on which I wished to have said something, yet I am going to
€nd this day of peace by a few words to show that what you said
did not lightly pass away from my mind. There is a beautiful
little sentence in the works of Charles Lamb concerning one who
had been afflicted : ' he gave his heart to the Purifier, and his will
to the Sovereign TVill of the Universe.'^ But there is a speech
in the third canto of the Paradiso of Dante, spoken by a certain
Piccarda, which is a rare gem. I will only quote this one line : .

In la sua volontade e nostra pace, ^

The words are few and simple, and yet they appear to me to have
ao inexpressible majesty of truth about them, to be almost as if
they were spoken from the very mouth of God. It so happened that
(unless my memory much deceives me) I first read that speech on
a morning early in the year 1836, which was one of trial. I was
profoundly impressed and powerfully sustained, almost absorbed,
liT these words. They cannot be too deeply graven upon the
ieart. In short, what we all want is that they should not come

^ Bn$amHnd Gray, chap. xi. is in the volume of collected transla-

'Mr. GladBtone^s rendering of the tions (p. 105), under the date of
fpeech of Piccarda (Paradiso, iii. 70) 1836 :

* In His Will is our peace. To this all things
By Him created, or by Nature made,
Ab to a central Sea, st-lf-motion brings.'

216 CHABACTEBISTICS

to US as an admonition from without^ but as an instinct from
within. They should not be adopted by effort or upon a process
1840. ^^ proof, but they should be simply the translation into speech
of the habitual tone to which all tempers, affections, emotions,
are set. In the Christian mood, which ought never to be inter-
mitted, the sense of this conviction should recur spontaneously ;
it should be the foundation of all mental thoughts and acts, and
the measure to which the whole experience of life, inward and
outward, is referred. The final state which we are to contemplate
with hope, and to seek by discipline, is that in which our will
shall be (me with the will of God; not merely shall submit to it,
not merely shall follow after it, but shall live and move with
it, even as the pulse of the blood in the extremities acts with
the central movement of the heart. And this is to be obtained
through a double process ; the first, that of checking, repressing,
quelling the inclination of the will to act with reference to self as
a centre ; this is to mortify it. The second, to cherish, exercise,
and expand its new and heavenly power of acting according to
the will of God, first, perhaps, by painful effort in great feebleness
and with many inconsistencies, but with continually augmenting
regularity and force, until obedience become a necessity of second
nature. . . .

Resignation is too often conceived to be merely a submission not
unattended with complaint to what we have no power to avoid.
But it is less than the whole of a work of a Christian. Your full
triumph as far as that particular occasion of duty is concerned
will be to find that you not merely repress inward tendencies to
murmur — but that you would not if you could alter what in any
matter God has plainly willed. . . . Here is the great work of
religion ; here is the path through which sanctity is attained, the
highest sanctity ; and yet it is a path evidently to be traced in the
course of our daily duties. . . .

When we are thwarted in the exercise of some innocent, laud-
able, and almost sacred affection, as in the case, though its scale
be small, out of which all of this has grown, Satan has us at an
advantage, because when the obstacle occurs, we have a sentiment
that the feeling baffled is a right one, and in indulging a rebellious
temper we flatter ourselves that we are merely as it were indulgent

BESPONSIBIUTY FOB GIFTS 217

on behalf, not of ourselves, but of a duty which we have been
interrupted in performing. But our duties can take care of them-
selves when God calls us away from any of them. ... To be j^j,[ 3^
able to relinquish a duty upon command shows a higher grace
than to be able to give up a mere pleasure for a duty. . . .

The resignation thus described with all this power and
deep feeling is, of course, in one form of thoughts and
words, of symbol and synthesis, or another, the foundation
of all the great systems of life. A summary of Mr. Glad-
stone's interpretation of it is perhaps found in a few words
used by him of Blanco White, a heterodox writer whose
strange spiritual fortunes painfully interested and perplexed
tim. * He cherished,' says Mr. Gladstone, * with whatever
associations, the love of God, and maintained resignation to
Bis will, even when it appears almost impossible to see how
le could have had a dogmatic belief in the existence of a
divine will at all. There was, in short [in Blanco White], a
disposition to resist the tyranny of self; to recognise the
rule of duty; to maintain the supremacy of the higher
infer the lower parts of our nature.^ ^ This very disposition
might with truth no less assured have been assigned to the
writer himself. These three bright crystal laws of life were
to him like pointer stars guiding a traveller's eye to the
celestial pole by which he steers.

When all has been said of a man's gifts, the critical ques-
tion still stands over, how he regards his responsibility for
ixiaing them. Once in a conversation with Mr. Gladstone,
some fifty years from the epoch of this present chapter,
^ve fell upon the topic of ambition. * Well,' he said, ' I do
not think that I can tax myself in my own life with ever
\iaviDg been much moved by ambition.' The remark so
astonished me that, as he afterwards playfully reported to a
friend, I almost jumped up from my chair. We soon shall
reach a stage in his career when both remark and surprise
/nay explain themselves. We shall see that if ambition
means love of power or fame for the sake of glitter, decora-
tion, external renown, or even dominion and authority on
1 Gleanings, ii. p. 20, 1846.

CHAPTER VII

CliOSB OF APPEBNnCBSHIP

{18S9-1841)

What are great gifts but the correlative of great work ? We are
not bom for ourselves, but for our kind, for our neighbours, for our
country : it is but selfishness, indolence, a perverse fastidiousness,
an unmanliness, and no virtue or praise, to bury our talent in a
napkin. — Cabdixal Newman.

Along with his domestic and parliamentary concerns, we CHAP.
are to recognise the ferment that was proceeding in Mr. ^ ^^' j
Gladstone's mind upon new veins of theology ; but it was an jg^ ^Q
interior working of feeling and reflection, and went forward
^thout much visible relation to the outer acts and facts of his
life during this period. As to those, one entry in the diary
(Feb. 1st, 1839) tells a sufficient tale for the next two years.
'I find I have, besides family and parliamentary concerns and
those of study, ten committees on hand : Milbank, Society for
Propagation of the Gospel, Church Building Metropolis,
Church Commercial School, National Schools inquiry and
correspondence. Upper Canada, Clergy, Additional Curates'
Fund, Carlton Library, Oxford and Cambridge Club. These
things distract and dissipate my mind.' Well they might ;
for in any man with less than Mr. Gladstone's amazing
faculty of rapid and powerful concentration, such dispersion
Diust have been disastrous both to effectiveness and to
inental progress. As it is, I find little in the way of central
^cts to remark in either mental history or public action.
He strayed away occasionally from the Fathers and their
ptetures and dipped into the new literature of the hour,
associated with names of dawning popularity. Carlyle he
found hard to lay down. Some of Emerson, too, he became

219

220 CLOSE OF APPBENTICESHEP

acquainted with, as we have already seen ; but his mind was far
too closely filled with transcendentalisms of his own to offer
1839. ii^uch hospitality to the serene and beautiful transcendental-
ism of Emerson. He read Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby^
and on the latter he makes a characteristic comment — 'the
tone is very human ; it is most happy in touches of natural
pathos. No church in the book, and the motives are not
those of religion.' So with Hallam's History of Literature^
* Finished (Oct. 10, 1839) his theological chapter, in which
I am sorry to find amidst such merits, what is even far more
grievous than his anti-church sarcasms, such notions on
original sin as in iv. p. 161.' He found Chillingworth's
Religion of Protestants * a work of the most mixed merits,' an
ambiguous phrase which I take to mean not that its merits
were various, but that they were much mixed with those
demerits for which the puritan Cheynell baited the unlucky
latitudinarian to death. About this time also he first began
Father Paul's famous history of the Council of Trent, a work
that always stood as high in his esteem as in Macaulay's,
who liked Sarpi the best of all modem historians.

To the great veteran poet of the time Mr. Gladstone's
fidelity was unchanging, even down to compositions that
the ordinary Wordsworthian gives up : —

Bead aloud Wordsworth's Cumberland Beggar and Peter Bdl,
The former is generally acknowledged to be a noble poem. The
same justice is not done to the latter; I was more than ever
struck with the vivid power of the descriptions, the strong touches
of feeling, the skill and order with which the plot upon Peter's
conscience is arranged, and the depth of interest which is made to
attach to the humblest of quadrupeds. It must have cost greats
labour, and is an extraordinary poem^ both as a whole and ixx
detail.

Let not the scorner forget that Matthew Arnold, that ad^
mirable critic and fine poet, confesses to reading Peter Belf
with pleasure and edification.

In the political field he moved steadily on. Sir R. Peel
spoke to him (April 19, 1839) in the House about the de-
bate and wished him to speak after Sheil, if Graham, who

THE JAMAICA CASE 221

was to speak about 8 or 9, could bring him up. Peel
showed him several points with regard to the committee
which he thought might be urged. 'This is very kind in jet.30.
him as a mark of confidence; and assures me that if, as
I suspect, he considers my book as likely to bring me into
some embarrassment individually, yet he is willing to let
me still act under him, and fight my own battles in that
matter as best with God's help I may, which is thoroughly
fair. It imposes, however, a great responsibility. I was not
presumptuous enough to dream of following Shell ; not that
his speech is formidable, but the impression it leaves on the
House is. I meant to provoke him. A mean man may fire
at a tiger, but it requires a strong and bold one to stand his
charge; and the longer I live, the more I feel my own
(intrinsically) utter powerleasness in the House of Commons.
But my principle is this — not to shrink from any such
responsibility when laid upon me by a competent person.
Shell, however, did not speak, so I am reserved and may
fulfil my own idea, please God, to-night.'

We come now to one of the memorable episodes in this
vexed decade of our political history. The sullen demon
of slavery died hard. The negro still wore about his neck
galling links of the broken chain. The transitory stage of
apprenticeship was in some respects even harsher than the
bondage from which it was to bring deliverance, and the old
iniquity only worked in new ways. The pity and energy
of the humane at home drove a perplexed and sluggish
government to pass an act for dealing with the abominations
of the prisons to which the unhappy blacks were com-
Dwtted in Jamaica. The assembly of that island, a planter
oligarchy, resented the new law from the mother country as
^n invasion of their constitutional rights, and stubbornly
refused in their exasperation, even after a local dissolution,
to perform duties that were indispensable for working the
machinery of administration. The cabinet in consequence
asked parliament (April 9th) to suspend the constitution
of Jamaica for a term of five years. The tory opposition,
led by Peel with all his force, aided by the aversion of a
section of the liberals to a measure in which they detected

222 CLOSE OF APPRENTICESHIP

BOOK a flavour of dictatorship, ran the ministers (May 6th) within

V ' . five votes of defeat on a cardinal stage.
1840. ^I ^^ amused,' says Mr. Gladstone, *with observing
yesterday the differences of countenance and manner in
the ministers whom I met on my ride. EUice (their
friend) would not look at me at all. Charles Wood looked
but askance and with the hat over the brow. Grey shouted,
" Wish you joy ! " Lord Ho wick gave a remarkably civil and
smiling nod ; and Morpeth a hand salute with all his might,
as we crossed in riding. On Monday night after the division.
Peel said just as it was known and about to be announced,
^^ Jamaica was a good horse to start." ' Of his own share
in the performance, Mr. Gladstone only says that he spoke
a dry speech to a somewhat reluctant House. ^I cannot
work up my matter at all in such a plight. However,
considering what it was, they behaved very welL A loud
cheer on the announcement of the numbers from our
people, in which I did not join.'

To have won the race by so narrow a majority as five
seemed to the whigs, wearied of their own impotence and
just discredit, a good plea for getting out of offiee. Peel
proceeded to begin the formation of a government, but the
operation broke down upon an affair of the bedchamber.
He supposed the Queen to object to the removal of any
of the ladies of her household, and the Queen supposed
him to insist on the removal of them all. The situation
was unedifying and nonsensical, but the Queen was not
yet twenty, and Lord Melbourne had for once failed to
teach a prudent lesson. A few days saw Melbourne back in
office, and in office he remained for two years longer.^

n

In June 1839 the understanding arrived at with Miss
Catherine Glynne during the previous winter in Sicily,
ripened into a definite engagement, and on the 25th of
the following July their marriage took place amid much

1 For Mr. Gladstone's later view of subject, which, he says, * wiU proba-
this transaction, see Gleanings^ i. bly never see the light.'
p. 39. He composed a letter on the

(la ^/i i'ri/t e y J/a a. f hyn e
from a painting.

MABBIA6B 228

rejoicing and festivity at Hawarden. At the same time and chap.
place, Mary Glynne, the younger sister, was married to y ' j
Lord Lyttelton. Sir Stephen Glynne, their brother, was jBa,zi.
the ninth, and as was to happen, the last baronet. Their
mother, bom Mary Neville, was the daughter of the second
Lord Braybrooke and Mary Grenville his wife, sister of the
first Marquis of Buckingham. Hence Lady Glynne was
one of a historic clan, granddaughter of George Grenville,
the minister of American taxation, and niece of William,
Lord Grenville, head of the cabinet of All the Talents in
1806. She was first cousin therefore of the younger Pitt,
and the Glynnes could boast of a family connection with
three prime ministers, or if we choose to add Lord Chatham
who married Hester Grenville, with four.^ * I told her,' Mr.
Gladstone recorded on this occasion of their engagement
(Jane 8th), ^what was my original destination and desire
in life ; in what sense and manner I remained in connection
with politics. ... I have given her (led by her questions)
these passages for canons of our living : —

* Le f ronde, onde s'inf ronda tutto rorto
Deir Ortolano etemo, am* io cotanto,
Quanto da lui a lor di bene h porto/ *

And Dante again —

* In la sua volontade h nostra pace :

Ella k quel mare, al qual tutto si muove.* "

In few human unions have the good hopes and fond
wishes of a bridal day been better fulfilled or brought
deeper and more lasting content. Sixty long years after,
Mr. Gladstone said, ' It would not be possible to unfold in
words the value of the gifts which the bounty of Providence

^ Mr. Gladstone compiled this list of the statesmen in the maternal
ancestry of his children : —

Right Hon. George Grenville, . . Great, great grandfather.

Sir W. Wyndham, .... Great, great, great grandfather.

I»rd Chatham, Great, great granduncle-in-law.

Mr. IMtt, First cousin thrice removed.

Lord Grenville, Great granduncle.

Mr. Grenville, Great granduncle.

2 Paradiso, xxvi. 64-6 —

* Love for each plant that in the garden grows,

Of the Eternal Gardener, I prove.
Proportioned to the goodness he bestows.' — Wright.
» Ibid. iiL 85. See above, p. 216.

224 CLOSB OF APPBENTIGESHIP

has conferred upon me through her.' And the blessing
remained radiant and unclouded to the distant end.
1840. ^^ ^^® close of August, after posting across Scotland from
Greenock by a route better known now than then to every
tourist, the young couple made their way to Fasque, where
the new bride found an auspicious approach and the kindest
of welcomes. Her ' entrance into her adoptive family was
much more formidable than it would be to those who had been
less loved, or less influential, or less needed and leant upon,
in the home where she was so long a queen.' At Fasque
all went as usual. Soon after his arrival, his father com-
municated that he meant actually to transfer to his sons
his Demerara properties — Robertson to have the manage-
ment. ' This increased wealth, so much beyond my needs,
with its attendant responsibility is very burdensome, however
on his part the act be beautiful.'

in

The parliamentary session of 1840 was unimportant and
dreary. The government was tottering, the conservative
leaders were in no hurry to pluck the pear before it was
ripe, and the only men with any animating principle of active
public policy in them were Cobden and the League against
the Corn Law. The attention of the House of Commons
was mainly centred in the case of Stockdale and the publica-
tion of debates. But Mr. Gladstone's most earnest thoughts
were still far away from what he found to be the dry sawdust
of the daily politics, as the following lines may show : —

March l^thy 1840. — Manning dined with us. He kindly under-
took to revise my manuscript on ' Church Principles.'

March l^th, — Yesterday I had a long conversation with James
Hope. He came to tell me, with great generosity, that he
would always respond to any call, according to the best of his
power, which I might make on him for the behalf of the common
cause — he had given up all views of advancement in his profession
— he had about £400 a year, and this, which includes his fellow-
ship, was quite sufficient for his wants ; his time would be devoted

THE CHINA QUESTION 226

o church objects ; in the intermediate region he considered him- CHAP,
elf as having the first tonsure. ^ ' j

Hope urged strongly the principle, * Let every man abide in the ^^^ 3^^
ailing ' I thought even over strongly. My belief is that he fore-
goes the ministry from deeming himself unworthy. . . . The object
»f my letter to Hope was in part to record on paper my abhorrence
►f party in the church, whether Oxford party or any other.

March IStli, — To-day a meeting at Peel's on the China ques-

;ion ; considered in the view of censure upon the conduct of the

idministration, and a motion will accordingly be made objecting

to the attempts to force the Chinese to modify their old relations

with us, and to the leaving the superintendent without military

force. It was decided not to move simultaneously in the Lords —

particularly because the radicals would, if there were a double

motion, act not on the merits but for the ministry. Otherwise,

it seemed to be thought we should carry a motion. The Duke of

Wellington said, ' God 1 if it is carried, they will go,' that they were

as near as possible to resignation on the last defeat, and would not

stand it again. Peel said, he understood four ministers were then

strongly for resigning. The duke also said, our footing in China

could not be re-established, unless \mder some considerable naval

and military demonstration, now that matters had gone so far.

He appeared pale and shaken, but spoke loud and a good deal,

much to the point and with considerable gesticulation. The

mind's life I never saw more vigorous.

The Chinese question was of the simplest. British

subjects insisted on smuggling opium into China in the

teeth of Chinese law. The British agent on the spot

began war against China for protecting herself against these

Dialpractices. There was no pretence that China was in

the wrong, for in fact the British government had sent out

orders that the opium-smugglers should not be shielded ;

but the orders arrived too late, and war having begun, Great

Britain felt bound to see it through, with the result that

China was compelled to open four ports, to cede Hong

i^ong, and to pay an indemnity of six hundred thousand

fx>unds. So true is it that statesmen have no concern with

>ater nosters, the Sermon on the Mount, or the vade mecum

VOL. I — Q

226 CL08B OF APPBBNTIGS8HIP

BOOK of the moralist. We shall soon see that this transaction
, ^ began to make Mr. Gladstone uneasy, as was indeed to be
1840. expected in anybody who held that a state should have a
conscience.^ On April 8, 1840, his journal says : 'Read on
China. House. . . . Spoke heavily ; strongly against the
trade and the war, having previously asked whether my
speaking out on them would do harm, and having been
authorised.' An unguarded expression brought him into a
debating scrape, but his speech abounded in the pure milk
of what was to be the Gladstonian word : —

I do not know how it can be urged as a crime against the
Chinese that they refused provisions to those who refused
obedience to their laws whilst residing within their territory. I
am not competent to judge how long this war may last, nor how
protracted may be its operations, but this I can say, that a war
more imjust in its origin, a war more calculated in its progress to
cover this country with disgrace, I do not know and I have not read
of. Mr. Macaulay spoke last night in eloquent terms of the British
flag waving in glory at Canton, and of the animating effect produced
upon the minds of our sailors by the knowledge that in no coimtry
under heaven was it permitted to be insulted. But how comes
it to pass that the sight of that flag always raises the spirits
of Englishmen ? It is because it has always been associated with
the cause of justice, with opposition to oppression, with respect
for national rights, with honourable commercial enterprise, but now
under the auspices of the noble lord [Palmerston] that flag is hoisted
to protect an infamous contraband traffic, and if it were never to
be hoisted except as it is now hoisted on the coast of China, we
should recoil from its sight with horror, and should never again
feel our hearts thrill, as they now thrill, with emotion when it
floats magnificently and in pride upon the breeze. . . . Although
the Chinese were undoubtedly guilty of much absurd phraseology,
of no little ostentatious pride, and of some excess, justice
in my opinion is with them, and whilst they the pagans
and semi-civilised barbarians have it, we the enlightened and
civilised Christians are pursuing objects at variance both with
justice and with religion.'

1 See Lord Palmerston's speech, * JJantard, 3 S. vol 68, p. 819.
Aug. 10, 1842.

80GIAI. DIVXBBION 227

May IMl — Consulted [various persons] on opium. All but Sir CHAP.
R. Inglis were on grounds of prudence against its [a motion v ' j
against the compensation demanded from China] being brought jg^, $1.
forward. To this majority of friendly and competent persons I
have given way, I hope not wrongfully ; but I am in dread of the
judgment of God upon England for our national iniquity towards
China. It has been to me matter of most painful and anxious
consideration. I yielded specifically to this ; the majority of the
persons most trustworthy feel that to make the motion would, our
leaders being in such a position and disposition with respect to it,
injure the cause. June Ist — Meeting of the Society for Suppres-
sion of the Slave Trade. [This was the occasion of a speech from
Prince Albert, who presided.] Exeter Hall crammed is really a
grand spectacle. Samuel Wilberf orce a beautiful speaker ; in some
points resembles Macaulay. Peel excellent. June 12th. — This
evening I voted for the Irish education grant ; on the ground that
in its principle, according to Lord Stanley's letter, it is identical
practically with the English grant of '33-8, and I might have
added with the Kildare Place grant. To exclude doctrine from
exposition is in my judgment as truly a mutilation of scripture)
as to omit bodily portions of the sacred volume.

His first child and eldest son was bom (June 3), and
Manning and Hope became his godfathers; these two
were Mr. Gladstone's mo^t intimate friends at this period.
Social diversions were never wanting. One June after-
noon he went down to Greenwich, * Grillion's fish dinner to
tl)6 Speaker. Great merriment; and an excellent speech
from Stanley, " good sense and good nonsense." A modest
one from Morpeth. But though we dined at six, these
expeditions do not suit me. I am ashamed of paying
/ 2, 10s. for a dinner. But on this occasion the object was to
do honour to a dignified and impartial Speaker.' He had
been not at all grateful, by the way, for the high honour of
admission to Grillion's dining club this year, — 'a thing quite
alien to my temperament, which requires more soothing and
domestic appliances after the feverish and consuming ex-
citements of party life; but the rules of society oblige me
to submit.' As it happened, so narrow is man's foreknow-

1840.

228 CLOSB OF APPBBNTIOBSHIP

ledge, Grillion's down to the very end of his life, nearly sixty
years ahead, had no more faithful or congenial member.

Jvly 1st — Last evening at Lambeth Palace I had a good deal of
conversation with Colonel Garwood about the Duke of Wellington
and about Canada. He told me an anecdote of Lord Seaton
which throws light upon his peculiar reserve, and shows it to be
a modesty of character, combined no doubt with military habits
and notions. When Captain Colborne, and senior officer of his rank
in the 21st foot, he [Lord Seaton] was military secretary to General
Fox during the war. A majority in his regiment fell vacant,
Gen. Fox desired him to ascertain who was the senior captain on
the command, * Captain So-and-so of the 80th [I think]/ ^ Write
to Colonel Gordon and recommend him to his royal highness for
the vacant majority.' He did it. The answer came to this effect :
^ The recommendation will not be refused, but we are surprised to
see that it comes in the handwriting of Captain Colborne, the very
man who, according to the rules of the service, ought to have this
majority.' General Fox had forgotten it, and Captain Colborne
had not reminded him ! The error was corrected. He (Gurwood,
said he had never known the Duke of Wellington speak on the
subject of religion but once, when he quoted the story of Oliver
Cromwell on his death-bed, and said : * That state of grace, in my
opinion, is a state or habit of doing right, of persevering in duty,
and to fall from it is to cease from acting right.' He alwaya
attends the service at 8 a.m. in the Chapel Royal, and says it is a^
duty which ought to be done, and the earlier in the day it is dis-
charged the better. July 2Uh, Heard [James] Hope in the House
of Lords against the Chapters bill ; and he spoke with such
eloquence, learning, lofty sentiment, clear and piercing diction,
continuity of argument, just order, sagacious tact, and comprehen-
sive method, as one would say would have required the longest
experience as well as the greatest natural gifts. Yet he never acted
before, save as counsel for the Edinburgh and Glasgow railway.
If hearts are to be moved, it must be by this speech.* Jvly 27tk, —

1 * It was the common talk of Ox- verdict on him in the words, ** That

ford how the most distinguished young man^s fortune is made.*** —

lawyer of the day, a literary man and Newman's Funeral Sermon on J. R.

a critic, on hearing the speech in Hope-Scott in Sermons preached ok

question, pronounced his prompt Various Occasions, p. 269.

/

EXAMIKEB AT ETON 229

Again went over and got up the subject of opium compensation CHAP,
as it respects the Chinese. I spoke thereon 1^ hours for the ^ ^^ ^
liberation of my conscience, and to afford the friends of peace ^^^ 3^
opposite an opportunity, of which they would not avail themselves.

In August he tells Mrs. Gladstone how he has been to
dine with ^such an odd party at the Guizots' ; Austin, radical
lawyer; John Mill, radical reviewer; M. Gaskell, Monckton
Milnea, Thirlwall, new Bishop of St. David's, George Lewis,
poor law commissioner. Not veiy ill mixed, however. The
hoet is extremely nice.' An odd party indeed ; it comprised
four at least of the strongest heads in England, and two of
the most illustrious names of all the century in Europe.

In March (1840) Mr. Gladstone and Lord Lyttelton went
to Eton together to fulfil the ambitious functions of examiner
for the Newcastle scholarship. In thanking Mr. Gladstone
for his services, Hawtrey speaks of the advantage of public
men of his stamp undertaking such duties in the good cause
of the established system of education, ^as against the
nonsense of utilitarians and radicals.' The questions ran in
the familiar mould in divinity, niceties of ancient grammar,
obscurities of classical construction, caprices of vocabulary,
and all the other points of the old learning. The general
merit Mr. Gladstone found 'beyond anything possible or
conceivable' when he was a boy at Eton a dozen years
before : —

We sit with the boys (39 in number) and make about ten hours

a day in looking over papers with great minuteness. . . . Although

it is in quantity hard work, it is lightened by a warm interest, and

the refreshment of early love upon a return to this sweet place. It

is work apart from human passion, and is felt as a moral relaxation,

though it is not one in any other sense. . . . This is a curious

experience to me, of jaded body and mind refreshed. I propose for

Latin theme a little sentence of Burke's which runs to this effect,

' Flattery corrupts both the receiver and the giver ; and adulation

is not of more service to the people than to kings.' April 2nd. —

The statistics become excessively interesting. Henry Hallam

gained, and now stands second [the brother of his dead friend].

Jpril 3rd. — In, 6 hours ; out, from 4 to 5 hours more upon the

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GLBNALMOND 231

absenice for the winter is a great blow. Were he to be at home I

do not doubt that great progress might be made. In the kirk

toil and trouble, double, double, the fires bum and cauldrons j^^zi.

bubble: and though I am not sanguine as to very speedy or

extensive resumption by the church of her spiritual rights, she

may have a great part to play. At present she is very weakly

manned, and this is the way I think to strengthen the crew.

The scheme expanded as time went on. His father threw
himself into it with characteristic energy and generosity,
contributing many thousand pounds, for the sum required
greatly exceeded the modest figure above mentioned. Mr.
Gladstone conducted a laborious and sometimes vexatious
correspondence in the midst of more important public
cares. Plans were mature, and adequate funds were forth-
coming, and in the autumn of 1842 Hope and the two
Gladstones made what they found an agreeable tour,
examining the various localities for a site, and finally
deciding on a spot ' on a mountain-stream, ten miles from
Perth, at the very gate of the highlands.' It was 1846
before tlie college at Glenalmond was opened for its destined
purposes.^ We all know examples of men holding opinions
with trenchancy, decision, and even a kind of fervour, and
yet with no strong desire to spread them. Mr. Gladstone
was at all times of very different temper ; consumed with
missionary energy and the fire of ardent propagandism.

He laboured hard at the fourth edition of his book,
sometimes getting eleven hours of work, * a good day as
times go,' — Montesquieu, Burke, Bacon, Clarendon, and
others of the masters of civil and historic wisdom being
laid under ample contribution. By Christmas he was at
Hawarden. In January he made a speech at a meeting held
in Liverpool for the foundation of a church union, and a few
days later he hurried off to Walsall to help his brother John,
then the tory candidate, and a curious incident happened: —

1 either provided myself, or I was furnished from headquarters,
. with a packet of pamphlets in favour of the com laws. These I

^ The reader who cares for further particulars may consult the Memoirs
of J. R. Hope-Scott, i. pp. 248, 281-8 ; and ii. p. 291.

232 CLOSB OF APPBBKTICESUIP

read, and I extracted from them the chief material of my speeches.
I dare say it was sad stuff, furbished up at a moment's notice. We
1841 carried the election. Cobden sent me a challenge to attend a
public discussion of the subject. Whether this was quite fair,
I am not certain, for I was young, made no pretension to be an
expert, and had never opened my lips in parliament on the subject
But it afforded me an excellent opportunity to decline with modesty
and with courtesy as well as reason. I am sorry to say that, to
the best of my recollection, I did far otherwise, and the pith of my
answer was made to be that I regarded the Anti-Corn Law League
as no better than a big borough-mongering association. Such was
my first capital offence in the matter of protection ; redeemed from
public condemnation only by obscurity.

The letters are preserved, but a sentence or two from
Mr. Gladstone's to Cobden are enough. * The phrases which
you quote from a report in the TS,meB have reference, not to
the corn law, but to the Anti-Corn Law League and its opera-
tions in Walsall. Complaining apparently of these, you
desire me to meet you in discussion, not upon the League
but upon the corn law. I cannot conceive two subjects
more distinct. I admit the question of the repeal of the
corn laws to be a subject fairly open to discussion, although
I have a strong opinion against it. But as to the Anti-
Corn Law League, I do not admit that any equitable doubt
can be entertained as to the character of its present pro-
ceedings; and, excepting a casual familiarity of phrase,
I adhere rigidly to the substance of the sentiments which
I have expressed. I know not who may be answerable
for these measures, nor was your name known to me, or
in my recollection at the time when I spoke.' Time soon
changed all this, and showed who was teacher and who the
learner.

By and by the session of 1841 opened, the whigs moving
steadily towards their fall, and Mr. Gladstone almost over-
whelmed with floods of domestic business. He settled in the
pleasant region which is to the metropolis what Delphi was
to the habitable earth, and where, if we include in it Downing
Street, he passed all the most important years of his life

LETTER FROM COBDEN 233

in London.^ Though he speaks of being overwhehned by chap.
domestic business, and he was undoubtedly hard beset by y ' ,
all the demands of early housekeeping, yet he very speedily ^ajr.82.
recovered his balance. He resisted now and always as
jealously as he could those promiscuous claims on time and
attention by which men of less strenuous purpose suffer the
effectiveness of their lives to be mutilated. * I well know,'
he writes to his young wife who was expecting him to join
her at Hagley, * you would not have me come on any con-
ditions with which one's sense of duty could not be quieted,
and would (I hope) send me back by the next train. These
delays are to you .a practical exemplification of the difficulty
of reconciling domestic and political engagements. The
case is one that scarcely admits of compromise ; the least
that is required in order to the fulfilment of one's duty
is constant bodily presence in London until the fag-end of
the session is fairly reached.'
Here are a few examples of the passing days : —

March 12thy 1841. — Tracts f(yr the Times, No. 90 ; ominous. March

13iA. — Went to see Reform Club. Sat to Bradley 2f4. London

Library committee. Carlton Library committee. Corrected two

proof-sheets. Conversed an hour and a half with Mr. Richmond,

'who came to tea, chiefly on my plan for a picture-life of Christ.

Chess with C. [his wife]. March l^th (Sunday), — Communion

est James's), St. Margaret's afternoon. Wrote on Ephes. v. 1, and

read it aloud to servants. March 20th, — City to see Freshfield.

A^ftemoon service in Saint Paul's. What an image, what a

crowd of images ! Amidst the unceasing din, and the tumult

of men hurrying this way and that for gold, or pleasure, or some

self-desire, the vast fabric thrusts itself up to heaven and firmly

plants itself on soil begrudged to an occupant that yields no lucre.

But the city cannot thrust forth its cathedral ; and from thence

arises the harmonious measured voice of intercession from day to

day. The church praying and deprecating continually for the

\iviiig mass that are dead while they live, from out of the very

^His first house was 13 Carlton which was his London home until

Bouse Terrace, then his father gave 1875. From 1876 to 1880 he occu-

bim 6 Carlton Gardens. In 1856 he pied 73 Harley Street,
purchased 11 Carlton House Terrace,

234 GliOBB OF ▲FPBENTIOB8HIP

centre of that mass ; silent and lonesome is her shrme, amidst the
noise, the thunder of multitudes. Silent, lonesome, motionless,
1841. ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^ ' ^^^ were we not more dead than the stones, which
built into that sublime structure witness continually to what is great
and everlasting, — did priest or chorister, or the casual worshipper
but apprehend the grandeur of his function in that spot, — the very
heart must burst with the tide of emotions gathering within it.
Oh for speed, speed to the wings of that day when this glorious
imfulfilled outline of a church shall be charged as a hive
with the operations of the Spirit of God and of His war against
the world; when the intervals of space and time within its
walls, now untenanted by any functions of that holy work,
shall be thickly occupied; and when the glorious sights and
sounds which shall arrest the passenger in his haste that he may
sanctify his purposes by worship, shall be symbols still failing to
express the fulness of the power of Crod developed among His
people.

March 21. — Wrote on 1 Thess. v. 17, and read it to servants.
Read The Young Communicants ; Bishop Hall's Life. It seems
as if at this time the number and close succession of occupa-
tions without any great present reward of love or joy, and chiefly
belonging to an earthly and narrow range, were my special
trial and discipline. Other I seem hardly to have any of daily
pressure. Health in myself and those nearest me ; (comparative)
wealth and success ; no strokes from God ; no opportunity of
pardoning others, for none offend me.

April 3. — Two or three nights ago Mrs. WilbraJiam told
Catherine that Stanley was extremely surprised to find, after his
speech on the Tamworth and Rugby railway bill, that Peel had
been very much annoyed with the expression he had used: *that
his right hon. friend had in pleading for the bill made use of all
that art and ingenuity with which he so well knew how to dress
up a statement for that House,' and that he showed his annoy-
ance very much by his manner to him, S., afterwards. He, upon
reflecting that this was the probable cause, wrote a note to Peel to
set matters to rights, in which he succeeded ; but he thought Peel
very thin-skinned. Wm. Cowper told me the other day at Milnes^s
that Lord John Russell is remarkable among his colleagues for

NEW FISCAL FOLIGY 235

his anxiety during the recess for the renewal of the session of CHAP,
parliament; that he always argues for fixing an early day of ^ ^^ ^
meeting, and finds pleas for it, and finds the time long until it ^^ ^^
recommences.

A visit to Nuneham (April 12) and thence to Oxford

brought him into the centre of the tractarians. He saw

much of Hamilton, went to afternoon service at Littlemore,

breakfasted in company with Newman at Merton, had a long

conveisation with Pusey on Tract 90, and gathered that

Newman thought differently of the Council of Trent from

what he had thought a year or two back, and that he

differed from Pusey in thinking the English reformation

uncatholic. Mr. Gladstone replied that No. 90 had the

appearance to his mind of being written by a man, if in, not

of, the church of England; and would be interpreted as

exhibiting the Tridentine system for the ideal, the anglican

for a mutilated said Just tolerable actual. Then in the same

month he ^finished Palmer on the Articles, deep, earnest,

and generally trustworthy. Worked upon a notion of private

eucharistical devotions, to be chiefly compiled ; and attended

I meeting about colonial bishoprics,' where he spoke but

indifferently.

IV

In 1841 the whigs in the expiring hours of their reign
launched parliament and parties upon what was to be the
grand marking controversy of the era. To remedy the dis-
order into which expenditure, mainly due to highhanded
foreign policy, had brought the national finance, they proposed
to reconstruct the fiscal system by reducing the duties on
foreign sugar and timber, and substituting for Wellington's
com law a fixed eight shilling duty on imported wheat.
\ The wiser heads, like Lord Spencer, were aware that as an
electioneering expedient the new policy would bring them
little luck, but their position in any case was desperate. The
handling of their proposals was curiously maladroit ; and even
ii it had been otherwise, ministerial repute alike for com-

1

236 CLOSE OF APPSBNTICE8HIP

petency and for sincerity was so damaged both in the House
of Commons and the country, that their doom was certain.
1841. '^^® reduction of the duty on slave-grown sugar from foreign
countries was as obnoxious to the abolitionist as it was dis-
advantageous to the West Indian proprietors, and both of
these powerful sections were joined by the corn-grower,
well aware that his turn would come next. Many meet-
ings took place at Sir Robert Peel's upon the sugar resolu-
tions, and Mr. Gladstone worked up the papers and figures
so as to be ready to speak if necessary. At one of these
meetings, by the way, he thought it worth while to write
down that Peel had the tradesmen's household books upon
his desk — a circumstance that he mentioned also to the
present writer, when by chance we found ourselves together
in the same room fifty years later.

On May 10th, his speech on the sugar duties came off in
due course. In this speech he took the sound point that the
new arrangement must act as an encouragement to the slave
trade, ' that monster which, while war, pestilence, and famine
were slaying their thousands, slew from year to year with
imceasing operation its tens of thousands.' As he went on,
he fell upon Macaulay for being member of a cabinet that
was thus deserting a cause in which Macaulay's father had
been the unseen ally of Wilberforce, and the pillar of his
strength, — ' a man of profound benevolence, of acute under-
standing, of indefatigable industry, and of that self-denying
temper which is content to work in secret, and to seek for
its reward beyond the grave.' Macaulay was the last man
to suffer rebuke in silence, and he made a sharp reply on
the following day, followed by a magnanimous peace-making
behind the Speaker's chair.

Meanwhile the air was thick and loud with rumours.
Lord Eliot told Mr. Gladstone in the middle of the debate
that there had been a stormy cabinet that morning, and that
ministers had at last made up their minds to follow Lord
Spencer's advice, to resign and not to dissolve. When th^
division on the sugar duties was taken, ministers were beaten-
(May 19) by a majority of 36, after fine performances fronr*^
Sir Robert, and a good one from Palmerston on the othexr

\

DEFEAT OP WHIG MINISTRY 237

side. The cabinet, with a tenacity incredible in our own day,
were still for holding on until their whole scheme, with the
popular element of cheap bread in it, was fully before the jetI 32.
country. Peel immediately countered them by a vote of
want of confidence, and this was carried (June 4) by a
majority of one : —

On Saturday morning the division in the House of Commons
presented a scene of the most extraordinary excitement. While
we were in our lobby we were told that we were 312 and the
government either 311 or 312. It was also known that they had

brought down Lord who was reported to be in a state of

total idiocy. After returning to the House I went to sit near the
bar, where the other party were coming in. We had all been
counted, 312, and the tellers at the government end had counted
to 308; there remained behind this unfortunate man, reclining in
a chair, evidently in total unconsciousness of what was proceeding.
Loud cries had been raised from our own side, when it was seen
that he was being brought up, to clear the bar that the whole
House might witness the scene, and every one stood up in intense
curiosity. There were now only this figure, less human even than
an automaton, and two persons, R. Stuart and E. Ellice, pushing
the chair in which he lay. A loud cry of ^ Shame, Shame,'
burst from our side ; those opposite were silent. Those three
were counted without passing the tellers, and the moment after
we saw that our tellers were on the right in walking to the table,
indicating that we had won. Fremantle gave out the numbers,
and then the intense excitement raised by the sight we had
witnessed found vent in our enthusiastic (quite irregular) hurrah
with great waving of hats. Upon looking back I am sorry to think
how much I partook in the excitement that prevailed ; but how
could it be otherwise in so extraordinary a case ? I thought Lord
John's a great speech — it was delivered too under the pressure of
great indisposition. He has risen with adversity. He seemed
rather below par as a leader in 1835 when he had a clear majority,
and the ball nearly at his foot ; in each successive year the strength
of his government has sunk and his own has risen.

Then came the dissolution, and an election memorable in

288 CL06B OF AFPRENTICE8HIP

the history of party. Thinking quite as much of the Scotch
college, the colonial bishoprics, and Tract Ninety, as of sugar
1841. duties or the corn law, Mr. Gladstone hastened to Newark.
He was delighted with the new colleague who had been pro-
vided for him. * As a candidate,' he writes to his wife, ' Lord
John Manners is excellent; his speaking is popular and
effective, and he is a good canvasser, by virtue not I think of
eflFort, but of a general kindliness and warmth of disposition
which naturally shows itself to every one. Nothing can be
more satisfactory than to have such a partner.' In his address
Mr. Gladstone only touched on the poor law and the corn
law. On the first he would desire liberal treatment for
aged, sick, and widowed poor, and reasonable discretion to
the local administrators of the law. As to the second, the
protection of native agriculture is an object of the first
economical and national importance, and should be secured
by a graduated scale of duties on foreign grain. * Manners
and I, ' he says, ' were returned as protectionists. My speeches
were of absolute dulness, but I have no doubt they were
sound in the sense of my leaders Peel and Graham and
others of the party.' The election offered no new incidents.
One old lady reproached him for not being content with
keeping bread and sugar from the people, but likewise by a
new faith, the mysterious monster of Puseyism, stealing away
from them the bread of life. He found the wesleyans shaky,
partly because they disliked his book and were afraid of the
Oxford Tracts, and partly from his refusal to subscribe to
their school. Otherwise, flags, bands, suppers, processions,
all went on in high ceremonial order as before. Day after
day passed with nothing worse than the threat of a blue
candidate, but one Sunday morning (June 26) as people
came out of church, they found an address on the walls and
a dark rumour got afloat that the new man had brought
heavy bags of money. For this rumour there was no founda-
tion, but it inspired annoying fears in the good and cheerful
hopes in the bad. The time was in any case too short, and
at four o'clock on June 29 the poll was found to be, Glad-
stone 633, Manners 630, Hobhouse 391. His own election
safely over, Mr. Gladstone turned to take part in a fierce

SLESCnON OF 1841 239

contest in which Sir Stephen Glynne was candidate for the rep-
resentation of Flintshire, but ' bribery, f aggotry, abduction,
personation, riot, factious delays, landlord's intimidations, jet!82.
partiality of authorities,' carried the day, and to the bitter
dismay of Hawarden, Sir Stephen was naiTowly beaten. One
ancient dame, overwhelmed by the defeat of the family that
for eighty years she had idolised, cried aloud to Mrs. Gladstone,
^ I am a great woman for thinking of the Lord, but O, my
dear lady, this has put it all out of my head.' The election
involved him in what would now be thought a whimsical
correspondence with one of the Grosvenor family, who com-
plained of Mr. Gladstone for violating the sacred canons of
electioneering etiquette by canvassing Lord Westminster's
tenants. * I did think,' says the wounded patrician, ' that
interference between a landlord with whose opinions you
were acquainted and his tenants was not justifiable according
to those laws of delicacy and propriety which I considered
binding in such cases.'

At last he was able to snatch a holiday with his wife and
child by the seaside at Hoylake, which rather oddly struck
him as being like Paestum without the temples. He read
away at Gibbon and Dante until he went to Hawarden,
partly to consider the state of its financial aflfairs; as to
these something is to be said later. ' Walked alone in
the Hawarden grounds,' he says one day during his stay ;
'ruminated on the last-named subject [accounts], also on
anticipated changes [in government]. I can digest the
crippled religious action of the state ; but I cannot be a
party to exacting by blood opium compensation from the
Chinese.' Then to London (Aug. 18). He attended the
select party meetings at Sir Robert Peel's and Lord
Aberdeen's. Dining at Grillion's he heard Stanley, speak-
ing of the new parliament, express a high opinion of
Roebuck as an able man and clear speaker, likely to make
a figure ; and also of Cobden as a resolute perspicacious man,
familiar with all the turns of his subject ; and when the new
House assembled, he had made up his mind for himself that
* Cobden vnll he a worrying man on com' This was Cobden's
first entry into the House. At last the whigs were put out

1841.

240 CLOSE OF APPBBNTICBSHIP

of office by a majority of 91, and Peel undertook to form a
government.

Aug, 31/41. — In consequence of a note received this morning
from Sir Robert Peel I went to him at half-past eleven. The
following is the substance of a quarter of an hour's conversation.
He said : * In this great struggle, in which we have been and are
to be engaged, the chief importance will attach to questions of
finance. It would not be in my power to undertake the business
of chancellor of the exchequer in detail ; I therefore have asked
Goulburn to fill that office, and I shall be simply first lord. I
think we shall be very strong in the House of Commons if as a
part of this arrangement you will accept the post of vice-president
of the board of trade, and conduct the business of that depart-
ment in the House of Commons, with Lord Ripon as president.
I consider it an office of the highest importance, and you will
have my unbounded confidence in it.' ^

I said, * of the importance and responsibility of that office at the
present time I am well aware ; but it is right that I should say
as strongly as I can, that I really am not fit for it. I have no
general knowledge of trade whatever ; with a few questions I am
acquainted, but they are such as have come across me incidentally.'
He said, * The satisfactory conduct of an office of that kind must
after all depend more upon the intrinsic qualities of the man,
than upon the precise amount of his previous knowledge. I
also think you will find Lord Ripon a perfect master of these
subjects, and depend upon it with these appointments at the
board of trade we shall carry the whole commercial interests
of the country with us.'

^ ^ At that period the board of trade how mach of the public trade businesB

was the department which admin- was transacted in it. Revenue was

istered to a great extent the functions then largely involved : and hence, I

that have since passed principally imagine, it came about that this

into the hands of the treasury, con- business was taken over in a great

nected with the fiscal laws of the degree by the treasury. I myself

country/ — Mr. Gladstone at Leeds, have drawn up new tariffs in both,

Oct. 8, 1881. In 1880, writing to Mr. at the B. of T. in 1842 and 1844-5,

Chamberlain, then president, he says : and at the treasury in 1853 and 1860.

* If you were to look back to the re- Why and how the old B. of T.

cords of your department thirty-five functions also passed in part to the

and forty years ago, you would find F. O. I do not so weU know.*

VICB-PBESIDBNT OF THE BOABD OP TRADE 241

He resumed, * If there be any other arrangement that you would
prefer, my value and " affectionate regard " for you would make
ine most desirous to effect it so far as the claims of others would j^ ^
permit To be perfectly frank and unreserved, I should tell you,
that there are many reasons which would have made me wish to
send you to Ireland ; but upon the whole I think that had better
not be done. Some considerations connected with the presbyte-
rians of Ireland make me prefer on the whole that we should adopt
a different plan.* Then, if I had had the exchequer, I should
bve asked you to be financial secretary to the treasury; but
under the circumstances I have mentioned, that would be an office
of secondary importance and I am sure you will not estimate that

I now propose to you by the mere name which it bears.' He also
made an allusion to the admiralty, of which I do not retain the
exact form. But I rather interposed and said, *My objection on
the score of fitness would certainly apply with even increased force
to anything connected with the military and naval services of the
country, for of them I know nothing. Nor have I any other object
in view ; there is no office to which I could designate myself. I
think it my duty to act upon your judgment as to my qualifica-
tions. If it be your deliberate wish to make me vice-president of
the board of trade, I will not decline it ; I will endeavour to put
myself into harness, and to prepare myself for the place in the
best manner I can ; but it really is an apprenticeship.' He said,
* I hope you will be content to act upon the sense which others
entertain of your suitableness for this office in particular, and I
think it will be a good arrangement both with a view to the present
conduct of business and to the brilliant destinies which I trust are
in store for you.' I answered, that I was deeply grateful for his
many acts of confidence and kindness ; and that I would at once
issent to the plan he had proposed, only begging him to observe
that I had mentioned my unfitness under a very strong sense of
duty and of the facts, and not by any means as a mere matter of
ceremony. I then added that I thought I should but ill respond
to his confidence if I did not mention to him a subject connected
with his policy which might raise a difficulty in my mind.

I I suppose this points to incom- between protestant Ulster and a
atibility in the fevers of the hour Puseyite chief secretary.

242 CLOSE OF APPBSNTIGB8HIP

' I cannot/ I said, ' reconcile it to my sense of right to exact from
China, as a term of peacei compensation for the opium surren-
1841. dared to her.' . . . He agreed that it was best to mention it;
observed that in consequence of the shape in which the Chinese
affair came into the hands of the new goFemment, they would not
be wholly unfettered ; seemed to hint that under any other circum-
stances the Tiee-president of board of trade need not so much
mind what was done in the other departments, but remarked
that at present every question of foreign relations and many
more would be very apt to mix themselves with the depart-
ment of trade. He thqught I had better leave the question
suspended.

I hesitated a moment before coming away and said it was only
from my anxiety to review what I had said, and to be sure that I
had made a clean breast on the subject of my unfitness for the
department of trade. Nothing could be more friendly and warm
than his whole language and demeanour. It has always been my
hope, that I might be able to avoid this class of public employ-
ment. On this account I have not endeavoured to train myself
for them. The place is very distasteful to me, and what is of
more importance, I fear I may hereafter demonstrate the unfitness
I have to-day only stated. However, it comes to me, I think, as
a matter of plain duty ; it may be all the better for not being
according to my own bent and leaning ; I must forthwith go to
work, as a reluctant schoolboy meaning well.

Sept, 3. — This day I went to Claremont to be sworn in. When
the council was constructed, the Duke of Buckingham and Lord
Liverpool were first called in to take their oaths and seats ; then
the remaining four followed, Lincoln, Eliot, Ernest Bruce, and L
The Queen sat at the head of the table, composed but dejected —
one could not but feel for her, all through the ceremonial. We
knelt down to take the oaths of allegiance and supremacy and
stood up to take (I think) the councillor's oath, then kissel
the Queen's hand, then went roimd the table shaking hands
with each member, beginning from Prince Albert who sat CQ
the Queen's right, and ending with Lord Whamcliffe on hsr
left. We then sat at the lower end of the table, excepting Loid
E. Bruce, who went to his place behind the Queen as vice-

8W0BK OF THB PBIVY COUNCIL 243

chamberlain. Then the chancellor first and next the Duke of CHAP.

VII
Buckingham were sworn to their respective offices. C. Greville , ' ,

forgot the duke's privy seal and sent him off without it; the s^,^.
Queen oorrected him and gave it . . . Then were read and
approve several orders in council; among which was one assign-
ing a district to a church and another appointing Lord Ripon and
me to act in matters of trade. These were read aloud by the
Queen in a very clear though subdued voice ; and she repeated
' Approved ' after each. Upon that relating to Lord E. and myself
we were called up and kissed hands again. Then the Queen rose,
as did all the members of the council, and retired bowing. We
had luncheon in the same room half an hour later and went off.
The Duke of Wellington went in an open carriage with a pair ; all
our other grand people with four. Peel looked shy all through.
I visited Claremont once before, 27 years ago I think, as a child,
to see the place, soon after the Princess Charlotte's death. It
cocresponded pretty much with my impressions.

He secured his re-election at Newark on September 14
without opposition, and without trouble, beyond the pressure
of a notion rooted in the genial mind of his constituency
that as master of the mint he would have an unlimited
command of public coin for all purposes whether general or
particular. His reflections upon his ministerial position are
of much biographic interest. He had evidently expected
inclusion in the cabinet : —

Sept. 16. — Upon quietly reviewing past times, and the degree
of confidence which Sir Robert Peel had for years, habitually I
may say, reposed in me, and especially considering its climax, in my
being summoned to the meetings immediately preceding the debate
oa the address in August, I am inclined to think, after allowing
for the delusions of self love, that there is not a perfect corre-
spondence between the tenor of the past on the one hand, and my
present appointment and the relations in which it places me to
the administration on the other. He may have made up his mind
tt those meetings that I was not qualified for the consultations
Of a government, nor would there be anything strange in this,
Except the supposition that he had not seen it before. Having

244 GLOSS OF APPBENTICESEOP

however taken the alarm (so to speak) upon the invitation at that
time^ and been impressed with the idea that it savoured of cabinet
1841. office, I considered and consulted on the Chinese question, which
I regarded as a serious impediment to office of that description,
and I had provisionally contemplated saying to Peel in case he
should offer me Ireland with the cabinet, to reply that I would
gladly serve his government in the secretaryship, but that I
feared his Chinese measures would hardly admit of my acting in
the cabinet. I am very sorry now to think that I may have been
guilty of an altogether absurd presumption, in dreaming of the
cabinet. But it was wholly suggested by that invitation. And
I still think that there must have been some consultation and
decision relating to me in the interval between the meetings and
the formation of the new ministry, which produced some alteration.
... In confirmation of the notion I have recorded above, I am
distinct in the recollection that there was a shyness in Peel's
manner and a downward eye, when he opened the conversation
and made the offer, not usual with him in speaking to me.

In after years, he thus described his position when he
went to the board of trade : —

I was totally ignorant both of political economy and of the
commerce of the country. I might have said, as I believe was
said by a former holder of the vice-presidency, that my mind was
in regard to all those matters a * sheet of white paper,' except that
it was doubtless coloured by a traditional prejudice of protection,
which had then quite recently become a distinctive mark of con-
servatism. In a spirit of ignorant mortification I said to myself
at the moment : the science of politics deals with the government
of men, but I am set to govern packages. In my journal for Aug. 2
I find this recorded : ' Since the address meetings ' (which were
quasi-cabinets) Hhe idea of the Irish secretaryship had nestled
imperceptibly in my mind.' ^

The vice-presidency was the post, by the way, impudentlj
proposed four years later by the whigs to Cobden, after he had
taught both whigs and tories their business. Mr. Gladstone,
1 Autobiographic note.

i

BEFLECnONS ON HIS OFFICE 245

at least, was quick to learn the share of ' packages ' in the CHAP,
government of men.

Sept. 30. — Closing the month, and a period of two years com-
prehended within this book, I add a few words. My position
is changed by office. In opposition I was frequently called, or
sometimes at least, to the confidential councils of the party on a
variety of subjects. In office, I shall of course have to do with
the department of trade and with little or nothing beyond. There
is some point in the query of the Westminster Review : Whether my
appointments are a covet satire f But they bring great advantages;
much less responsibility, much less anxiety. I could not have
made myself answerable for what I expect the cabiuet will do in
China. It must be admitted that it presents an odd appearance,
when a person whose mind and efforts have chiefly ranged within
the circle of subjects connected with the church, is put into office
of the most different* description. It looks as if the first object
were to neutralise his mischievous tendencies. But I am in doubt
whether to entertain this supposition would be really a compli-
ment to the discernment of my superiors, or a breach of charity ;
therefore it is best not entertained.

Paragraphs appeared in newspapers imputing to Mr. Glad-
stone a strong reprobation of the prime minister's opinions
upon church affairs, and he thought it worth while to write to
Sir Robert a strong (and most excessively lengthy) disclaimer
of being, among other things, an object of hope to unbend-
ing tones as against their moderate and cautious leader. ^
'Should party spirit,' he went on, 'run very high against
your commercial measures, I have no doubt that the venom
of my religious opinions will be plentifully alleged to have
infused itself into your policy even in that direction, . , .
and more than ever will be heard of your culpability in
taking into office a person of my bigoted and extreme
sentiments.' Peel replied (October 19, 1841) with kindness
and good sense. He had not taken the trouble to read the

1 It would appear from the manu- and unbending tories, which later

script at the British Museum, that events made long so famous and so

Macaolay's sentence about Mr. Glad- tiresome, was a happy afterthought,

fOODe as the rising hope of the stem written in along the margin.

vn.

246 CL06S OT APPRfiNTIOBSHIP

paragraph ; he had read the works from which a mischievous
industry had tried to collect means of defaming their author;
1841. ^^ found nothing in them in the most distant manner to
affect political co-operation ; and he signed his name to the
letter, ^with an esteem and regard, wluch are proof against
evil-minded attempts to sow jealousy and discord.' ^

1 Parker's Peel, ii. pp. 514-17.

CHAPTER VIII
pebl's government

{18^2-1844)

In many of the most important roles of public policy to B. Peel*8
govemment surpafised generally the governments which have suc-
ceeded it, whether liberal or conservative. Among them I would
mention purity in patronage, financial strictness, loyal adherence
to the princiide of public eooncMny, jealous regard to the rights of
parliament, a single eye to the public interest, strong aversion to
extension of territorial responsibilities and a frank admission of
the rights of foreign countries as equal to those of their own. — Mr.
Gladmohe (1880).!

Of the four or five most memorable administrations of the CHAP.
century, the great conservative government of Sir Robert ^^^^ j
Peel was undoubtedly one. It laid the groundwork of our jg^^ ^
solid commercial policy, it established our railway system,
it settled the currency, and, by no means least, it gave us a
good national character in Europe as lovers of moderation,
equity, and peace. Little as most members of the new
cabinet saw it, their advent definitely marked the rising
dawn of an economic era. If you had to constitute new
societies. Peel said to Croker, then you might on moral and
social grounds prefer cornfields to cotton factories, and you
might like an agricultural population better than a manu-
facturing ; as it was, the national lot was cast, and statesmen
were powerless to turn back the tide. The food of the people,
their clothing, the raw material for their industry, their
education, the conditions under which women and children
were suffered to toil, markets for the products of loom and
forge and furnace and mechanic's shop, — these were slowly
making their way into the central field of political vision, and

^ Undated fragment of letter to the Queen. See Appendix.

247

248 feel's government

taking the place of fantastic follies about foreign dynasties
and the balance of power as the true business of the British
1842. statesman. On the eve of entering parliament (September 17,
1832), Mr. Gladstone recounts some articles of his creed at
the time to his friend Gaskell, and to modem eyes a curious
list it is. The first place is given to his views on the relative
merits of Pedro, Miguel, Donna Maria, in respect of the
throne of Portugal. The second goes to Poland. The
third to the affairs of Lombardy. Free trade comes last.
This was still the lingering fashion of the moment, and it
died hard.

The new ministry contained an unusual number of men
of mark and capacity, and they were destined to form a
striking group. At their head was a statesman whose fame
grows more impressive with time, not the author or inspirer
of large creative ideas, but with what is at any rate next
best — a mind open and accessible to those ideas, and endowed
with such gifts of skill, vigilance, caution, and courage as
were needed for the government of a community rapidly
passing into a new stage of its social growth. One day in
February 1842, he sent for Mr. Gladstone on some occasion
of business. Peel happened not to be well, and in the course
of the conversation his doctor called. Sir James Graham
who had come in, said to his junior in Peel's absence with
the physician, 'The pressure upon him is immense. We
never had a minister who was so truly a first minister as he
is. He makes himself felt in every department, and is really
cognisant of the affairs of each. Lord Grey could not
master such an amount of business. Canning could not
do it. Now he is an actual minister, and is indeed capax
imperii.^ Next to Peel as parliamentary leaders stood
Graham himself and Stanley. They had both of them sat
in the cabinet of Lord Grey, and now found themselves the
colleagues of the bitterest foes of Grey's administration. As
we have seen, Mr. Gladstone pronounces Graham to have
known more about economic subjects than all the rest of the
government put together. Such things had hitherto been
left to men below the first rank in the hierarchy of public
office, like Huskisson. Pedro and Miguel held the field.

EKD OF HIS PBOTEGTIONI8T 8TAQB 249

Mr. Gladstone's own position is described in an auto- CHAP,
biographic fragment of his last years : — ^ ^^ j

When I entered parliament in 1832, the great controversy -^^'^
between protection or artificial restraint and free trade, of which
Cobden was the leading figure, did not enter into the popular
controversies of the day, and was still in the hands of the philo-
sophers. My father was an active and effective local politician,
and the protectionism which I inherited from him and from all
my youthful associations was qualified by a thorough acceptance
of the important preliminary measures of Mr. Huskisson, of whom
he was the first among the local supporters. Moreover, for the
first six years or so of my parliamentary life free trade was in
no way a party question, and it only became strictly such in 1841
at, and somewhat before, the general election, when the whig
government, in extremis, proposed a fixed duty upon com. My
mind was in regard to it a sheet of white paper, but I accepted
the established conditions in the lump, and could hardly do
otherwise. In 1833 only, the question was debated in the House
of Commons, and the speech of the mover against the com laws
made me uncomfortable. But the reply of Sir James Graham
restored my peace of mind. I followed the others with a languid
interest. Yet I remember being stmck with the essential unsound-
ness of the argument of Mr. Villiers. It was this. Under the
present corn law our trade, on which we depend, is doomed, for
our manufacturers cannot possibly contend with the manufacturers
of the continent if they have to pay wages regulated by the
protection price of food, while their rivals pay according to the
natural or free trade price. The answer was obvious. ' Thank
vou. We quite understand you. Your object is to get down the
wages of your workpeople.' It was Cobden who really set the
argument on its legs ; and it is futile to compare any other man
with him as the father of our system of free trade.

I had in 1840 to dabble in this question, and on the wrong
side of it* . . . The matter passed from my mind, full of churches
and church matters, in which I was now gradually acquiring
knowledge. In 1841 the necessities of the whig government
led to a further development of the great controversy; but I
1 See above, p. 232.

250 pbbl's goyernment

interfered only in the colonial part of it in connection with
the colonies and the slave trade to Porto Bico and Brazil We
1842. West Indians were now great philanthropists ! When Sir Robert
Peel assumed the government he had become deeply committed
to protection, which in the last two or three years had become
the subject of a commanding controversy. I suppose that at
Newark I followed suit; but I have no records. On the change
of government Peel, with much judgment, offered me the
vice-presidentship of the board of trade. On sound principles
of party discipline, I took the office at once; and having
taken it I set to work with all my might as a worker. In a
very short time I came to form a low estimate of the knowledge
and information of Lord Eipon; and of the cabinet Sir James
Graham, I think, knew most. And now the stones of which
my protectionism was built up began to get uncomfortably loose.
When we came to the question of the tariff, we were all nearly
on a par in ignorance, and we had a very bad adviser in Macgregor,
secretary to the board of trade. But I had the advantage of
being able to apply myself with an undivided attention. My
assumption of office at the board of trade was followed by hard,
steady, and honest work; and every day so spent beat like a
battering ram on the unsure fabric of my official protectionism.
By the end of the year I was far gone in the opposite sense. I
had to speak much on these questions in the session of 1842, but
it was always done with great moderation.

n

The case on the accession of the new ministers was difficult.
Peel himself has drawn the picture. By incompetent finance,
by reckless colonial exi)€nditure, by solving political diffi-
culties through gifts or promises of cash from the British
treasury, by war and foreign relations hovering on the verge
of war and necessitating extended preparations, the whigs
had brought the national resources into an embarrassment
that was extreme. The accumulated deficits of five years
had become a heavy incubus, and the deficit of 1842-3 was
likely to be not less than two and a half millions more.
Commerce and manufactures were languishing. Distress

PEBL'S slow CONYKB8ION 251

was terrible. Poor-rates were mounting, and grants-in-aid chap.
would extend impoverishment from the factory districts to ^ ^™' ^
the rural. * Judge then,' said Peel, 'whether we can with ^^if.ss.
safety retrograde in manufactures.' ^

So grave a crisis could only be met by daring remedies.
With the highest courage, moral courage no less than poli-
tical. Peel resolved to ask parliament to let him raise four
or five millions a year by income-tax, in order to lower the
duties on the great articles of consumption, and by reform-
ing the tariff both to relieve trade, and to stimulate and
replenish the reciprocal flow of export and import. That he
at this time, or perhaps in truth at any time, had acquired
complete mastery of those deeper principles and wider
aspects of free trade of which Adam Smith had been the great
exponent — principles afterwards enforced by the genius of
Cobden with such admirable skill, persistency, and patriotic
spirit — there was nothing to show. Such a scheme had no
originality in it. Huskisson, and men of less conspicuous
name, had ten years earlier urged the necessity of a new
general system of taxation, based upon remission of duty
on raw materials and on articles of consumption, and
upon the imposition of an income-tax. The famous report
of the committee on import duties of 1840, often rightly
called the charter of free trade, and of which Peel, not
much to his credit, had at this moment not read a word,*
laid the foundations of the great policy of tariff reform with
which the names of Peel and Gladstone are associated in
history. The policy advocated in 1830 in the admirable
treatise of Sir Henry Parnell is exactly the policy of Peel in
1842, as he acknowledged. After all it is an idle quarrel
between the closet strategist and the victorious commander ;
between the man who first discerns some great truth of
government, and the man who gets the thing, or even a
part of the thing, actually done.

Mr. Gladstone has left on record some particulars of his
own share as subordinate minister not in the cabinet, in this

1 Parker, ii pp. 490, 629, 533. learned enough to do more justice to

' Ibid., p. &09. Before the end of Hume and the committee,
the aeaaion (Aug. 10, 1S42) he had

252 peel's govebnment

first invasion upon the old tory com law of 1827. Peel
from the beginning appreciated the powers of his keen and
1842. zealous lieutenant, and even in the autumn of 1841 he had
taken him into confidential counsel.^ Besides a letter of
observations on the general scheme of commercial freedom,
Mr. GladstoAe prepared for the prime minister a special
paper on the corn laws.

The ordinary business of the department soon fell into my
hands to transact with the secretaries, one of them Macgregor, a
loose-minded free trader, and the other Lefevre, a clear and
scientific one. In that autumn I became possessed with the desire
to relax the corn law, which formed, I believe, the chief subject
of my meditations. Hence followed an important consequence.
Very slow in acquiring relative and secondary knowledge and
honestly absorbed in my work, I simply thought on and on as to
what was right and fair under the circumstances.

In January 1842, as the session approached, they came
to close quarters. The details of all the mysteries of protec-
tionist iniquity we may well spare ourselves. Peel, feeling
the pulse of his agricultural folk, thought it would never
do to give them less than a ten-shilling duty, when the
price of wheat was at sixty-two shillings the quarter ;
while Mr. Gladstone thought a twelve-shilling duty at a
price of sixty far too low a relief to the consumer. His
eyes were beginning to be opened.

Feb, 2. — I placed in Sir R. PeePs hands a long paper on the
com law in the month of November, which, on wishing to refer
to it, he could not find ; and he requested me to write out afresh
my argument upon the value of a rest or dead level, and the part
of the scale of price at which it should arrive ; this I did.

On Monday I wrote another paper arguing for a rest between
60/ and 70/ or thereabouts ; and yesterday a third intended to
show that the present law has been in practice fully equivalent
to a prohibition up to 70/. Lord Ripon then told me the cabinet
had adopted PeePs scale as it originally stood — and seemed to

1 The editor of Sir Robert Peel's chief at this interesting date. The
papers was aUowed to print three or reader wUl find the correspondence in
four of Mr. Gladstone's letters to his Parker, ii. pp. 497-517, 519, 620.

MB. GLADSTONE'S RAPID ADVAKCB 253

doubt whether any alteration could be made. On his announcing CHAP,
the adoption, I said in a marked manner, ' / am very sorry for it ' ^ ^^^' ^
— believing that it would be virtual prohibition up to 65/ or 66/ j^ ^
and often beyond, to the minimum ; and not being able, in spite
of all the good which the government is about to do with respect
to commerce, to make up my mind to support such a protection.
I see, from conversations with them to-day, that Lord Ripon,
Peel, and Graham, are all aware the protection is greater than is
necessary.

This mood soon carried the vice-president terribly far.
On Feb. 5 he met most of the members of the cabinet at
Peers house. He argued his point that the scale would
operate as virtual protection up to seventy shillings, and in
a private interview with Peel afterwards hinted at retirement.
Peel declared himself so taken by surprise that he hardly
knew what to say ; ' he was thunderstruck ; ' and he told
his young colleague that * the retirement of a person holding
his office, on this question, immediately before his introducing
it, would endanger the existence of the administration, and
that he much doubted whether in such a case he could
bring it on.'

I fear Peel was much annoyed and displeased, for he would not
give me a word of help or of favourable supposition as to my own
motives and belief. He used nothing like an angry or unkind
word, but the negative character of the conversation had a chilling
effect on my mind. I came home sick at heart in the evening and
told all to Catherine, my lips being to every one else, as I said to
Sir R. Peel, absolutely sealed.

' He might have gained me more easily, I think,' Mr.
Gladstone wrote years afterwards, ' by a more open and
supple method of expostulation. But he was not skilful,
I think, in the management of personal or sectional dilem-
mas, as he showed later on with respect to two important
questions, the Factory acts and the crisis on the sugar duties
in 1844.' This sharp and unnecessary corner safely turned,
Mr. Gladstone learned the lesson how to admire a great
master overcoming a legislator's difficulties.

254 peel's government

I have been mach struck (he wrote, Feb. 26) throaghout the
private discussions connected with the new project of a corn
1842. ^^' ^y ^^^ tenacity with which Sir Bobert Feel, firstly by
adhering in every point to the ohi arrangements where it seemed
at all possible, and since the announcement of the plan to parlia-
ment, by steadily resisting changes in any part of the resolutions,
has narrowed the ground and reduced in number the points of
attack, and thus made his measure practicable in the face of
popular excitement and a strong opposition. Until we were
actually in the midst of the struggle, I did not appreciate the
extraordinary sagacity of his parliamentary instinct in this
particular. He said yesterday to Lord Ripon and to me, * Among
ourselves, in this room, I have no hesitation in saying, that if I
had not had to look to other than abstract considerations, I would
have proposed a lower protection. But it would have done no
good to push the matter so far as to drive Knatchbull out of the
cabinet after the Duke of Buckingham, nor could I hope to pass
a measure with greater reductions through the House of Lords.*

When Lord John Russell proposed an amendment substi-
tuting an eight-shilling duty for a sliding scale, Peel asked
Mr. Gladstone to reply to him. ' This I did (Feb. 14, 1842),*
he says, ' and with my whole heart, for I did not yet fully
understand the vicious operation of the sliding scale on the
com trade, and it is hard to see how an eight-shilling duty
could even then have been maintained.'

m

The three centres of operations were the com bill, then
the bill imposing the income-tax, and finally the reform of
the duties upon seven hundred and fifty out of the twelve
hundred articles that swelled the tariff. The com bill was
the most delicate, the tariff the most laborious, the income-
tax the boldest, the most fraught alike with peril for the
hour and with consequences of pith and moment for the
future. It is hardly possible for us to realise the general
horror in which this hated impost was then enveloped. The
fact of Brougham procuring the destruction of all the public
books and papers in which its odious accounts were recorded,

THB NEW pouor 255

only illustrates the intensity of the common sentiment CHAP,
against the dire hydra evoked by Mr. Pitt for the destruction ^ ^™' ,
of the regicide power of France, and sent back again to its j^^ ^
gruesome limbo after the ruin of Napoleon. From 1842
ontil 1874 the question of the income-tax was the vexing
enigma of public finance.

It was upon Mr. Gladstone that the burden of the
immense achievement of the new tariff fell, and the toil
was huge. He used afterwards to say that he had been
concerned in four revisions of the tariff, in 1842, 1845,
1853, and 1860, and that the first of them cost six times as
much trouble as the other three put together. He spoke one
hundred and twenty-nine times during the session. He had
only once sat on a committee of trade, and had only onoe
spoken on a purely trade question during the nine years of
his parliamentary life. All his habits of thought and action
had been cast in a different mould. It is ordinarily assumed
that he was a bom financier, endowed besides with a gift of
idealism and the fine training of a scholar. As matter of
fact, it was the other way ; he was a man of high practical and
moral imagination, with an understanding made accurate by
strength of grasp and incomparable power of rapid and
concentrated apprehension, yoked to finance only by force
of circumstance — a man who would have made a shining
and effective figure in whatever path of great public affairs,
whether ecclesiastical or secular, duty might have called
for his exertions.

It is curious that the first measure of commercial policy
in this session should have been a measure of protection
in the shape of a bill introduced by the board of trade,
imposing a duty on com, wheat, and flour brought from
the United States into Canada.^ But this was only a detail,
though a singular one, in a policy that was in fact a con-
tinuance of the relaxation of the commercial system of
the colonies which had been begun in 1822 and 1825 by
Robinson and Huskisson. In his present employment

^ In 1843 a "bill was passed lower- 1843 I pleaded strongly for the admis-

ing the daty on Canadian com im- sion of all the colonies to the privilege

ported into England, and Mr. Glad- then granted to Canada.*
stone says in a memo, of 1851 : * In

256 peel's govebnment

Mr. Gladstone was called upon to handle a mass of ques-
tions that were both of extreme complexity in them-
jg^ selves, and also involved collision with trade interests
always easily alarmed, irritated, and even exasperated. With
merchants and manufacturers, importers and exporters,
brokers and bankers, with all the serried hosts of British
trade, with the laws and circumstances of international com-
merce, he was every day brought into close, detailed, and
responsible contact : — Whether the duty on straw bonnets
should go by weight or by number ; what was the difference
between boot-fronts at six shillings per dozen pairs and a 15
per cent, duty ad valorem ; how to distinguish the regulus of
tin from mere ore, and how to fix the duty on copper ore so as
not to injure the smelter ; how to find an adjustment between
the liquorice manufacturers of London and the liquorice
growers of Pontef ract ; what was the special case for musca-
tels as distinct from other raisins ; whether 110 pounds of
ship biscuits would be a fair deposit for taking out of bond
100 pounds of wheat if not kiln-dried, or 96 pounds if kiln-
dried ; whether there ought to be uniformity between hides
and skins. He applies to Cornewall Lewis, then a poor-law
commissioner, not on the astronomy of the ancients or the •
truth of early Roman history, but to find out for a certain
series of years past the contract price of meat in workhouses.
He listens to the grievances of the lath-renders ; of the
coopers who complain that casks will come in too cheap ; of
the coal-whippers, and the frame-work knitters ; and he
examines the hard predicament of the sawyers, who hold
government answerable both for the fatal competition of
machinery and the displacement of wood by iron. ' These
deputations,' he says, ' were invaluable to me, for by constant
close questioning I learned the nature of their trades, and
armed with this admission to their interior, made careful
notes and became able to defend in debate the propositions
of the tariff and to show that the respective businesses would
be carried on and not ruined as they said. I have ever since
said that deputations are most admirable aids for the transac-
tion of public business, provided the receiver of them is allowed
to fix the occasion and the stage at which they appear.'

PEEL TO JOHN GLADSTONE 267

Among the deputations of this period Mr. Gladstone always chap.
recalled one from Lancashire, as the occasion on which he ^^^ ^
first saw Mr. Bright: —

Mr.ZS.

The deputation was received not by me but by Lord Ripon, in

the large room at the board of trade, I being present. A long

line of fifteen or twenty gentlemen occupied benches running

down and at the end of the room, and presented a formidable

appearance. All that I remember, however, is the figure of a

person in black or dark Quaker costume, seemingly the youngest

of the band. Eagerly he sat a little forward on the bench and

intervened in the discussion. I was greatly struck with him. He

seemed to me rather fierce, but very strong and very earnest. I

need hardly say this was John Bright. A year or two after he

made his appearance in parliament.^

The best testimony to Mr. Gladstone's share in this
arduous task is supplied in a letter written by the prime
minister himself to John Gladstone, and that he should have
taken the trouble to write it shows, moreover, that though
Peel may have been a ^ bad horse to go up to in the stable,'
^his reserve easily melted away in recognition of difficult duty
well done : —

Sir Robert Peel to John Gladstone.

Whitehall^ June 16, 1842. — You probably have heard that we have

concluded the discussions (the preliminary discussions at least) on

the subject of the tariff. I cannot resist the temptation, if it be

only for the satisfaction of my own feelings, of congratulating you

^Jaost warmly and sincerely, on the distinction which your son has

Squired, by the manner in which he has conducted himself

throughout those discussions and all others since his appointment

to oflBce. At no time in the annals of parliament has there been

exhibited a more admirable combination of ability, extensive

knowledge, temper, and discretion. Your paternal feelings must

V>e gratified in the highest degree by the success which has

naturally and justly followed the intellectual exertions of your

son, and you must be supremely happy as a father in the reflection

\^ Bright was elected for Durham in July 1843.
VOL. I — 8

258 PBBL'S GOVISRNHENT

that the capacity to make such exertions is combined in his ca£
with such purity of heart and integrity of conduct

184S. More than fifty years later in offering to a severe opponen
magnanimous congratulations in debate on his son's success
ful maiden speech, Mr. Gladstone said he knew how refresh
ing to a father's heart such good promise must ever be. Anc
in his own instance Peel's generous and considerate lettei
naturally drew from John Gladstone a worthy and feeling
response : —

John Gladstone to Sir JR, Peel.

June 17. — The receipt last evening of your kind letter of
yesterday filled my eyes with tears of gratitude to Almighty
God, for having given me a son whose conduct in the discharge of
his public duties has received the full approbation of one, who of all
men, is so well qualified to form a correct judgment of his merits.
Permit me to offer you my most sincere thanks for this truly
acceptable testimonial, which I shall carefully preserve. Williaiu
is the youngest of my four sons ; in the conduct of all of them, I
have the greatest cause for thankfulness, for neither have evei
caused me a pang. He excels his brothers in talent, but not so
in soundness of principles, habits of usefulness, or integrity oi
purpose. My eldest, as you are aware, has again, and in a most
satisfactory manner, got into parliament. To have the third also
again there, whilst the services of naval men, circumstanced as he
is, who seek unsuccessfully for employment, are not required, we
are desirous to effect, and wait for a favourable opportunity tc
accomplish. Whenever we may succeed, I shall consider my cup
to be filled, for the second is honourably and usefully engaged as
a merchant in Liverpool, occupying the situation I held there foi
so many years.

It was while they were in office that Peel wrote fron
Windsor to beg Mr. Gladstone to sit for his portrait t
Lucas, the same artist who had already painted Graham fo
him. ^ I shall be very glad of this addition to the galler
of the eminent men of my own time.'

It was evident that Mr. Gladstone's admission to tl
cabinet could not be long deferred, and in the spring of tl

JEfT.M.

ENTBY INTO THB CABINET 259

{ollowing year, the head of the government made him CHAP.

the coveted commnnication : — v_^_^

WhitehaU, May 13, 1843.

My deab Gladstone, — I have proposed to the Queen that Lord
Eipon should succeed my lamented friend and colleague, Lord
Fitzgerald, as president of the board of control. I, at the same
time, requested her Majesty's permission (and it was most readily
conceded) to propose to you the office of president of the board
of trade, with a seat in the cabinet. If it were not for the
occasion of the vacancy I should have had unmixed satisfaction
in thus availing myself of the earliest opportunity that has
occurred since the formation of the government, of giving a wider
scope to your ability to render public service, and of strengthen-
ing that government by inviting your aid as a minister of the
crown. For myself personally, and I can answer also for every
other member of the government, the prospect of your accession
to the cabinet is very gratifying to our feelings. — Believe me,
my dear Gladstone, with sincere esteem and regard, most truly
yours, Kobsbt Peel.

At two to-day (May 13), Mr. Gladstone records, I went to Sir
% Peel's on the subject of his letter. I began by thanking him
for the indulgent manner in which he had excused ray errors,
and more than appreciated any services I might have rendered,
and for the offer he had made and the manner of it. I said that I
went to the board of trade without knowledge or relish, but had
been very happy there ; found quite enough to occupy my mind,
enough responsibility for my own strength, and had no desire to
niove onwards, but should be perfectly satisfied with any arrange-
ment which he might make as to Lord Ripon's successor. He
spoke most warmly of service received, said he could not be
governed by any personal considerations, and this which he pro-
posed was obviously the right arrangement. I then stated the
substance of what I had put in my memorandum, first on the
opium question, to which his answer was, that the immediate
power and responsibility lay with the East India Company ; he
did not express agreement with my view of the cultivation
of the drug, but said it was a minor subject as compared with
other imperial interests constantly brought under discussion;

260 peel's government

intimated that the Duke of Wellington had surrendered his
opinion (I think) upon t^e boundary question; and he referred to
1843. ^^^ change in his own views, and said that in future he questioned
whether he could undertake the defence of the com laws on
principle. His words were addressed to a sympathising hearer.
My speeches in the House had already excited dissatisfaction if
not dismay.

Then came something about the preservation of the two
bishoprics in North Wales.^ To Mr. Gladstone's surprise,
Peel reckoned this a more serious matter, as it involved a
practical course. After much had been said on the topic,
Mr. Gladstone asked for a day or two to consider the ques-
tion. *I have to consider with God's help by Monday
whether to enter the cabinet or to retire altogether : at least
such is probably the second alternative.' He wished to
consult Hope and Manning, and they, upon discussion, urged
that the point was too narrow on which to join issue with
the government. This brought him round. * I well remem-
ber,' he says of this early case of compromise, ' that 1 pleaded
against them that I should be viewed as a traitor, and they
observed to me in reply that I must be prepared for that if
necessary, that (and indeed I now feel) in these times the
very wisest and most effective servants of any cause must
necessarily fall so far short of the popular sentiment of its
friends, as to be liable constantly to incur mistrust and even
abuse. But patience and the power of character overcome
all these difficulties. I am certain that Hope and Manning
in 1843 were not my tempters but rather my good angels.'^

Peel had been in parliament as long, and almost as long
in office, as Mr. Gladstone had lived, but experience of
public life enlarges the man of high mind, and Peel, while
perhaps he wondered at his junior's bad sense of proportion,

1 The question of the Welsh bishop- changed, and a hostile cry was raised

rics was one of a certain magnitude before the death of the Bishop of St

in its day. The union of Bangor and Asaph, when its provisions would

St. Asaph had been provided for by come into force. On his death in

parliament in 1836, with a view to 1846 the whig ministry gave way and

form a new see at Manchester. The the sees remained separate,

measure was passed with the general > Mr. Gladstone to Lord Lyttelton,

assent of the episcopal bench and the Dec. 80, 1845.
church at large. But sentiment soon

PARTJAMENTABY SUCCESS 261

was the last man to laugh at force of sincerity and con- CHAP,
science. Men of the other sort, as he knew, were always to , ^
be had for the asking. ^ He spoke again of the satisfaction jg^^ ^
of his colleagues, and even said he did not recollect former
instances of a single vacancy in a cabinet, on which there was
an entire concurrence. I repeated what I had said of his and
their most indulgent judgment and took occasion distinctly
to apologise for my blunder, and the consequent embarrass-
ment which I caused to him in Feb. 1842, on the corn scale.' ^
His parliamentary success had been extraordinary. From
the first his gifts of reasoning and eloquence had pleased
the House ; his union of sincerity and force had attracted it
as sincerity and force never fail to do ; and his industry and
acuteness, his steady growth in political stature, substance,
and acquisition, had gained for him the confidence of the
austerest of leaders. He had reached a seat in the cabinet
before he was thirty-four, and after little more than ten
years of parliamentary life. Canning was thirty-seven before
lie won the same eminence, and he had been thirteen years
ill the House; while Peel had the cabinet within reach
^vhen he was four-and-thirty, and had been in the House
11.1 most thirteen years, of which six had been passed in the
six-duous post of Irish secretary. Mr. Gladstone had shown
1. 1 lat he had in him the qualities that make a minister
ixxid a speaker of the first class, though he had shown
5^130 the perilous quality of a spirit of minute scruple. He
li^ad not yet displayed those formidable powers of conten-
tiion and attack, that were before long to resemble some
tremendous projectile, describing a path the law of whose
curves and deviations, as they watched its journey through
the air in wonder and anxiety for the shattering impact,
Tiien found it impossible to calculate.

Mr. Gladstone's brief notes of his first and second cabinets
are worth transcribing : the judicious reader will have little
difficulty in guessing the topic for deliberation ; it figured
in the latest of his cabinets as in the earliest, as well as in
most of those that intervened. ' May 15. — My first cabinet.
On Irish repeal meetings. No fear of breach of the peace,
1 See above, p. 253.

262 psbl's qovernmsnt

grounded on reasons. Therefore no case for interference.
(The duke, however, was for issuing a proclamation.)
jgj^ May 20. — Second [cabinet] Repeal. Constabulary tainted.'
It would be safe to say of any half dozen consecutive meetings
of the Queen's servants, taken at random during the reign,
that Ireland would be certain to crop up. Still, protection
was the burning question. From one cause or another, said
Mr. Gladstone looking back to these times, ^my reputa-
tion among the conservatives on the question of pro-
tection oozed away with rapidity. It died with the year
1842, and early in 1843 a duke, I think the Duke of
Richmond, speaking in the House of Lords, described some
renegade proceeding as a proceeding conducted under the
banner of the vice-president of the board of trade.' He
was not always as careful as Peel, and sometimes came near
to a scrape.

In my speech on Lord Howick's motion (Mar. 10, 1843) I was
supposed to play with the question, and prepare the way for a
departure from the corn law of last year, and I am sensible that
I so far lost my head, as not to put well together the various,
and, if taken separately, conflicting considerations which affect
the question. ... It so happens that I spoke under the influence
of a new and most sincere conviction, having reference to the
recent circumstances of commercial legislation abroad, to the
effect that it would not be wise to displace British labour for
the sake of cheap com, without the counteracting and sustain-
. ing provisions which exchange, not distorted by tarife all but
prohibitory, would supply. . . . This, it is clear, is a slippery
position for a man who does not think firmly in the midst of
ambiguous and adverse cheering, and I did my work most im-
perfectly, but I do think honestly. Sir R. Peel's manner, by
negative signs, showed that he thought either my ground inse-
cure or my expressions dangerous.

The situation was essentially artificial. There was little
secret of the surrender of protection as a principle. In
introducing the proposals for the reform of the customs
tariff. Peel made the gentlemen around him shiver by openly
declaring that on the general principle of free trade there

AK ABTinCIAL SITUATION

was no difference of opinion; that all agreed in the role CHAP,
that we should buy in the cheapest market and sell in the ^^™',
dearest ; that even if the foreigner were foolish enough not to j^^ ^^
follow suit, it was still for the interest of this country to buy
as cheap as we could, whether other countries will buy from
us or no.^ Even important cabinet colleagues found this too
strong doctrine for them.

^ On Tuesday night,' says Mr. Gladstone, * Peel opened the
tariff anew, and laid down, in a manner which drew great
cheering from the opposition, the doctrine of purchasing in
the cheapest market. Stanley said to me afterwards, ^^ Peel
laid that down a great deal too broadly." Last night he
(Lord S.) sat down angry with himself, and turned to me
and said, ^^It does not signify, I cannot speak on these
subjects ; I quite lost my head." 1 merely answered that no
one but himself would have discovered it.' Yet it was able
men, apt to lose their heads in economics, whom Peel had to
carry along with him. ^ On another night,' says Mr. Glad-
stone, ^I thought Sir R. Peel appeared in an attitude of
conspicnous intellectual greatness, and on comparing notes
next day with Sir J. Graham at the palace, I found he
'^VTw similarly impressed. Shell delivered a very effective
i-lietorical speech. Lord Stanley had taken a few notes and
'^as to follow him. Shell was winding up just as the clock
t:ouched twelve. Lord Stanley said to Peel, " It is twelve,
«liall I follow him? I think not." Peel said, "I do not
t^liink it will do to let this go unanswered." He had been
cj^uite without the idea of speaking that night. Shell sat
down, and peals of cheering followed. Stanley seemed to
hesitate a good deal, and at last said, as it were to himself,
*' No, I won't, it 's too late." In the meantime the adjourn-
ment had been moved; but when Peel saw there was no
one in the breach, he rose. The cheers were still, a little
spitefully, prolonged from the other side. He had an
immense subject, a disturbed House, a successful speech, an
entire absence of notice to contend against ; but he began
with power, gathered power as he went on, handled every
point in his usual mode of balanced thought and language,
1 Hansard, May 10, 1842.

264 peel's government

BOOK and was evidently conscious at the close, of what no one
^' , could deny, that he had made a deep impression on the
1343^ House.'

rv

Mr. Gladstone kept pretty closely in step with his leader.
From Sir Robert he slowly learned lessons of circumspection
that may not seem congenial to his temperament, though
for that matter we should remember all through that his
temperament was double. He was of opinion, as he told the
House of Commons, that a sliding-scale, a fixed duty, and free
trade were all three open to serious objection. He regarded
the defects of the existing law as greatly exaggerated, and he
refused to admit that the defects of the law, whatever they
might be, were fatal to every law with a sliding-scale. He
wished to relieve the consumer, to steady the trade, to
augment foreign commerce, and the demand for labour
connected with commerce. On the other hand he desired
to keep clear of the countervailing evils of disturbing either
vast capitals invested in land, or the immense masses of
labour employed in agriculture.^ He noted with some com-
placency, that during the great controversy of 1846 and
following years, he never saw any parliamentary speech of
his own quoted in proof of the inconsistency of the Peelites.
Here are a couple of entries from Lord Broughton's diary
for 1844: — 'June 17. Brougham said "Gladstone was a
d d fellow, a prig, and did much mischief to the govern-
ment," alluding to his speech about keeping sugar duties.
June 27. Gladstone made a decided agricultural protection
speech, and was lauded therefor by Miles — so the rebels
were returning to their allegiance.' Gladstone's arguments,
somebody said, were in favour of free trade, and his paren-
theses were in favour of protection.

Well might the whole position be called as slippery
a one as ever occurred in British politics. It was by
the principles of free trade that Peel and his lieutenant
justified tariff-reform ; and they indirectly sapped protection
in general by dwelling on the mischiefs of minor forms of
1 Hansard, February 14, 1842.

AK ABTIFICIAL SITUATIOK 265

protection in particular. They assured the country gentle- CHAP.

men that the sacred principle of a scale was as tenderly ^^^^

cherished in the new plan as in the old ; on the other hand j^ 34^

they could assure the leaguers and the doubters that the

structure of the two scales was widely different. We cannot

wonder that honest tories who stuck to the old doctrine,

not always rejected even by Huskisson, that a country ought

not to be dependent on foreign supply, wei*e mystified and

amazed as they listened to the two rival parties disputing to

which of them belonged the credit of originating a policy

that each of them had so short a time before so scornfully

denounced. The only difference was the difference between

yesterday and the day before yesterday. The whigs, with

iheir fixed duty, were just as open as the conservatives with

their sliding-scale to the taunts of the Manchester school,

when they decorated economics by high a priori declaration

that the free importation of com was not a subject for the

deliberations of the senate, but a natural and inalienable

law of the Creator. Rapid was the conversion. Even Lord

Palmerston, of all people in the world, denounced the arro-

* gaoce and presumptuous folly of dealers in restrictive

duties 'setting up their miserable legislation instead of

the great standing laws of nature.' Mr. Disraeli, still

warmly on the side of the minister, flashed upon his

uneasy friends around him a reminder of the true pedigree

of the dogmas of free trade. Was it not Mr. Pitt who

first promulgated them in 1787, who saw that the loss

of the market of the American colonies made it neces-

sarj' by lowering duties to look round for new markets

on the continent of Europe ? And was it not Fox, Burke,

Sheridan, and the minor whig luminaries, who opposed him,

while not a single member of his own government in the

House of Lords was willing or able to defend him? But

even reminiscences of ^Ir. Pitt, and oracular descriptions of

Lord Shelburne as the most remarkable man of his age,

brought little comfort to men sincerely convinced with fear

and trembling that free corn would destroy rent, close their

mansions and their parks, break up their lives, and beggar

the country. They remembered also one or two chapters of

266 PESBL'S GOySRNMEKT

histoiy nearer to their own time. They knew that Lord
John had a right to revive the unforgotten contrast between
1848. Peel's rejection of so-called protestant securities in 1817
and 1825, and the total surrender of emancipation in 1829.
Natural forebodings darkened their souls that protectionism
would soon share the fate of protestantism, and that capit-
ulation to Cobdeu was doomed to follow the old scandal
of capitulation to 0*Connell. They felt that there was
something much more dreadful than the mere sting of a
parliamentary recrimination, in the contrast between the
corn bill of 1842 and Peel's panegyrics in '39, '40, and '41
on the very S}rstem which that bill now shattered. On the
other side some could not forget that in 1840 the whig
prime minister, the head of a party still even at the eleventh
hour unregenerated by Manchester, predicted a violent
struggle as the result of the Manchester policy, stirring
society to its foundations, kindling bitter animosities not
easy to quench, and creating convulsions as fierce as those
of the Reform bill.

A situation so precarious and so unedifying was sure to
lead to strange results in the relations of parties and leaders.
In July 1843 the Speaker told Hobhouse that Peel had lost
all following and authority ; all but votes. Hobhouse meet-
ing a tory friend told him that Sir Robert had got nothing
but his majority. ' He won't have that long,' the tory replied.
* Who will make sacrifices for such a fellow ? They call me
a frondeur^ but there are many such. Peel thinks he can
govern by Fremantle and a little clique, but it will not do.
The first election that comes, out he must go.' Melbourne,
only half in jest, was reported to talk of begging Peel to give
him timely notice, lest the Queen might take him by surprise.
On one occasion Hobhouse wished a secondary minister to
tell Sir Robert how much he admired a certain speech. *I! *
exclaimed the minister ; * he would kick me away if I dared
to speak to him.' ^ A man,' Hobhouse observes, ^ who will
not take a civil truth from a subaltern is but a sulky fellow
after all ; there is no true dignity or pride in such reserve.'
Oddly enough, Lord John was complaining just as loudly
about the same time of his own want of hold upon his part^.

AN ABTIFICIAL SITUATION 267

The tariff operations of 1842 worked no swift social chap.
miracle. Greneral stagnation still prevailed. Capital was , ^^' j
a drug in the market, but food was comparatively cheap. ^ iEr. 34.
Stocks were light, and there was very little false credit.
In spite of all these favouring conditions, Mr. Gladstone
(March 20, 1843) had to report to his chief that *the
deadness of foreign demand keeps our commerce in a
state of prolonged paralysis.' Cobden had not even yet
convinced them that the true way to quicken foreign demand
was to open the ports to that foreign supply, with which
they paid us for what they bought from us. Mr. Gladstone
saw no further than the desire of making specific arrange-
ment with other countries for reciprocal reductions of
import duties.

In one of his autobiographic notes (1897) Mr. Gladstone
describes the short and sharp parliamentary crisis in 1844
brought about by the question of the sugar duties, but this
may perhaps be relegated to an appendix.^

From 1841 to 1844 Mr. Gladstone's department was
engaged in other matters lying beyond the main stream of
effort. ' We were anxiously and eagerly endeavouring to
make tariff treaties with many foreign countries. Austria, I
think, may have been included, but I recollect especially
France, Prussia, Portugal, and I believe Spain. And the
state of our tariff, even after the law of 1842, was then such
as to supply us with plenty of material for liberal offers.
Notwithstanding this, we failed in every case. I doubt
whether we advanced the cause of free trade by a single inch.'

The question of the prohibition against the export of
machinery came before him. The custom-house authorities
pronounced it ineffective, and recommended its removal.
A parliamentary committee in 1841 had reported in favour
of entire freedom. The machine makers, of course, were
active, and the general manufacturers of the country, except-

' The average price of wheat per shillings, a lower average than for
qaarter in 1S41 was 64 shillings, in any year until 1849.
1SI2, 57 shillings, and in 1848, 60 > See Appendix.

268 peel's government

ing the Nottingham lace makers and the flax-spinners of
the north of Ireland, had become neutral. Only a very
j3^^ limited portion of the trade was any longer subject to
restriction, and Mr. Gladstone, after due consultation with
superior ministers, proposed a bill for removing the pro-
hibition altogether.^ He also brought in a bill (April 1844)
for the regulation of companies. It was when he was
president of the board of trade that the first Telegraph
Act was passed. *I was well aware,' he wrote, 'of the
advantage of taking them into the hands of the government,
but I was engaged in a plan which contemplated the
ultimate acquisition of the railwajrs by the public, and
which was much opposed by the railway companies, so that
to have attempted taking the telegraphs would have been
hopeless. • The bill was passed, but the executive machinery
two years afterwards broke down.'

Questions that do not fall within the contentions of
party usually cut a meagre figure on the page of the
historian, and the railway policy of this decade is one
of those questions. It was settled without much careful
deliberation or foresight, and may be said in the main to
have shaped itself. At the time when Mr. Gladstone
presided over the department of trade, an immense
extension of the railway system was seen to be certain,
and we may now smile at what then seemed the striking
novelty of such a prospect. Mr. Gladstone proposed a
select committee on the subject, guided its deliberations,
drew its reports, and framed the bill that was founded upon
them. He dwelt upon the favour now beginning to be
shown to the new roads by the owners of land through
which they were to pass, so different from the stubborn
resistance that had for long been offered ; upon the
cheapened cost of construction ; upon the growing disposition
to employ redundant capital in making railways, instead of
running the risks that had made foreign investment so
disastrous. It was not long, indeed, before this very dis-
position led to a mania that was even more widely disastrous
than any foreign investment had been since the days of the
1 See Speech, Aug. 10, 1S43.

RAILWAYS 269

outh Sea bubble. Meanwhile, Mr. Gladstone's Railway CHAP.
k.ct of 1844, besides a number of working regulations for the y j

lay, laid down two principles of the widest range : reserving ^^^ 35^
o the state the full right of intervention in the concerns of
ihe railway companies, and giving to the state the option to
purchase a line at the end of a certain term at twenty-five
years' purchase of the divisible profits.^

It was during these years of labour under Peel that he
first acquired principles of administrative and parliamentary
practice that afterwards stood him in good stead : on no
account to try to deal with a question before it is ripe ; never
to go the length of submitting a difference between two
departments to the prime minister before the case is ex-
hausted and complete ; never to press a proposal forward
beyond the particular stage at which it has arrived. Pure
commonplaces if we will, but they are not all of them easy
to learn. We cannot forget that Peel and Mr. Gladstone
were in the strict line of political succession. They were
alike in social origin and academic antecedents. They started
from the same point of view as to the great organs of national
life, the monarchy, the territorial peerage and the commons,
the church, the universities. They showed the same clear
knowledge that it was not by its decorative parts, or what
Burke styled 'solemn plausibilities,' that the community
derived its strength ; but that it rested for its real founda-
tions on its manufactures, its commerce, and its credit.'
Even in the lesser things, in reading Sir Robert Peel's
letters, those who in later years served under Mr. Gladstone
can recognise tho school to which he went for the methods,
the habits of mind, the practices of business, and even the
phrases which he employed when his own time came to
assume the direction of public affairs, the surmounting of
administrative difficulties, the piloting of complex measures,
and the handling of troublesome persons.

' Wordsworth wrote (Oct 16, 1844) The sixth line, by the way, is a

to implore him to direct special atten- variant from the version in the books :

tioo to the desecrating project of a *And must he too his old delights

ni/way from Kendal to the head of disown.' — Knight^s frord«toortA(1896

Ifindermere, and enclosed a sonnet, edition), viiL 166.

CHAPTER IX

MAYNOOTH

(,1844^18j^)

When I consider how munificently the colleges of Cambridge and
Oxford are endowed, and with what pomp religion and learning are
there surrounded ; . . . when I remember what was the faith of
Edward iii. and of Henry ▼!., of Margaret of Anjou and Margaret
of Richmond, of William of Wykeham and William of Waynefleet,
of Archbishop Chichele and Cardinal Wolsey ; when I remember
what we have taken from the Roman catholics, King's College,
New College, Christ Church, my own Trinity ; and when I look
at the miserable Dotheboys' Hall which we have given them in
exchange, I feel, I must own, less proud than I could wish of being
a protestant and a Cambridge man. — Macaulat.

In pursuit of the policy of conciliation with which he was
now endeavouring to counter O'Connell, Peel opened to his
1844 colleagues in 1844 a plan for dealing with the sum annually
voted by parliament to the seminary for the training of
catholic clergy at Maynooth. The original grant was
made by the Irish parliament, protestant as it was ; and
was accepted even by anti-catholic leaders after 1800 as
virtually a portion of the legislative union with Ireland.
Peel's proposal, by making an annual grant permanent,
by tripling the amount, by incorporating the trustees,
established a new and closer connection between the state
and the college. It was one of the boldest things he ever did.
What Lord Aberdeen wrote to Madame de Lieven in 1852
was hardly a whit less true in 1845 : ' There is more intense
bigotry in England at this moment than in any other country
in Europe.' Peel said to Mr. Gladstone at the beginning of
1845 — * I wish to speak without any reserve, and I ought
to tell you, I think it will very probably be fatal to the

270

IRISH POLICY OF CONCILIATION 271

government.' * He explained that he did not know whether
the feeling among Goulburn's constituents [the university
of Cambridge] might not be too strong for him; that in ^35.
Scotland, as he expected, there would be a great opposition ;
and he seemed to think that from the church also there
might be great resistance, and he said the proceedings
in the diocese of Exeter showed a very sensitive state of
the public mind/ During the whole of 1844 the project
simmered. At a very early moment Mr. Gladstone grew
uneasy. He did not condemn the policy in itself, but what-
ever else might be said, it was in direct antagonism to the
principle elaborately expounded by him only six years before,
as the sacred rule and obligation between a Christian state
and Christian churches. He had marked any departure
from that rule as a sign of social declension, as a descent
from a higher state of society to a lower, as a note in the
ebb and flow of national life. Was it not inevitable, then,
that his official participation in the extension of the public
endowment of Maynooth would henceforth give to every
one the right to say of him, * Tliat man cannot be trusted ' ?
He was not indeed committed, by anything that he had
written, to the extravagant position that the peace of society
should be hazarded because it could no longer restore its
ancient theories of religion ; but was he not right in holding
it indispensable that any vote or further declaration from
him on these matters should be given under circumstances
free from all just suspicions of his disinterestedness and
honesty ? ^

In view of these approaching difficulties upon Maynooth,
on July 12 he made a truly singular tender to the head of
the government. He knew Peel to be disposed to entertain
the question of a renewal of the public relations with the
papal court at Rome, first to be opened by indirect com-
munications through the British envoy at Florence or
Naples. ' What I have to say,' Mr. Gladstone now wrote
to the prime minister, ' is that if you and Lord Aberdeen
should think fit to appoint me to Florence or Naples, and

iThe letters from Mr. Gladstone Mr. Parker, Peel, iii. pp. 160, 163,
to Peel on this topic are given by 166.

272 MAYNOOTH

to employ me in any such communications as those to
which I have referred, I am at your disposal.' Of this start-
1844. 1^"S offer to transform himself from president of the board of
trade into Vatican envoy, Mr. Gladstone left his own later
judgment upon record ; here it is, and no more needs to be
said upon it : —

About the time of my resignation on accoimt of the contem-
plated increase of the grant to the College of Maynooth, I became
possessed with the idea that there was about to be a renewal in
some shape of our diplomatic [relations] with the see of Rome,
and I believe that I committed the gross error of tendering my-
self to Sir Robert Peel to fill the post of envoy. I have difficulty
at this date (1894) in conceiving by what obliquity of view I
could have come to imagine that this was a rational or in any
way excusable proposal : and this, although I vaguely think my
friend James Hope had some hand in it, seems to show me now
that there existed in my mind a strong element of fanaticism.
I believe that I left it to Sir R. Peel to make me any answer or
none as he might think fit ; and he with great propriety chose
the latter alternative.

In the autumn of 1844, the prime minister understood that
if he proceeded with the Maynooth increase, he would lose
Mr. Gladstone. The loss. Peel said to Graham, was serious,
and on every account to be regretted, but no hope of avert-
ing it would justify the abandonment of a most important
part of their Irish policy. Meanwhile, in the midst of heavy
labours on the tariff in preparation for the budget of 1845,
Mr. Gladstone was sharply perturbed, as some of his letters
to Mrs. Gladstone show : —

Whitehall, Nov, 22, '44. — It is much beyond my expectation
that Newman should have taken my letter so kindly ; it seemed to
me so like the operation of a clumsy, bungling surgeon upon a
sensitive part. I cannot well comment upon his meaning, for as
you may easily judge, what with cabinet, board, and Oak Farm,
I have enough in my head to-day — and the subject is a fine and
subtle one. But I may perhaps be able to think upon it to-night,
in the meantime I think yours is a very just conjectural sketch.
We have not got in cabinet to-day to the really pinching part of

INTENTION TO RESIGN 278

the discussion, the Roman catholic religious education. That CHAP,
comes on Monday. My mind does not waver; pray for me, ^ ^^' j
that I may do right I have an appointment with Peel to- ^j^ 35^
Tnorrow, and I rather think he means to say something to me on
the question.

Nov, 23. — You will see that whatever turns up, I am sure to be
iu the wrong. An invitation to Windsor for us came this morning,
and I am wrry to say one including Sunday — Nov. 30 to Dec. 2.
I have had a long battle with Peel on the matters of my office ; not
another syllable. So far as it goes this tends to make me think
he does not calculate on any change in me ; yet on the whole I
lean the other way. Manning comes up on Monday.

Nov. 25. — Events travel fast and not slow. My opinion is that
I shall be out on Friday evening. We have discussed Maynooth
to-day. An intermediate letter which Sir James Graham has to
write to Ireland for information causes thus much of delay. I
have told them that if I go, I shall go on the ground of what is
required by my personal character, and not because my mind is
made up that the course which they propose can be avoided, far
less because I consider myself bound to resist it. I had the process
of this declaration to repeat. I think they were prepared for it,
but they would not assume that it was to be, and rather proceeded
as if I had never said a word before upon the subject. It was
painful, but not so painful as the last time, and by an effort I had
altogether prevented my mind from brooding upon it beforehand.
At this moment (6\) 1 am sure they are talking about it over the
way. I am going to dine with Sir R. Peel. Under these circum-
stances the Windsor visit will be strange enough ! In the mean-
time my father writes to me most urgently, desiring me to come
to Liverpool. I hope for some further light from him on Wednesday
morning. . . .

Nov. 26. — I have no more light to throw upon the matters which
I mentioned yesterday. The dinner at PeePs went off as well as
could be expected ; I did not sit near him. Lord Aberdeen was
with me to-day, and said very kindly it must be prevented. But
I think it cannot, and friendly efforts to prolong the day only
aggravate the pain. Manning was with me all this morning ; he
is well, and is to come back to-morrow.

VOL. I — T

274 MAYNOOTH

Jan. 9, '45. — Another postponement ; bnt our explanations were

as satisfactory as could possibly be made under such circumstances.

1846. ^^^ ^^® ^^^ manner as kind as at any time — nothing like

murmur. At the same time Peel said he thought it right to

intimate a belief that the government might very probably be

shipwrecked upon the Maynooth question, partly in oonnection

with my retirement, but also as he intimated from the uncertainty

whether there might not be a very strong popular feeling against

it He takes upon himself all responsibility for any inconvenience

to which the government may possibly be put from the delay and

a consequent abrupt retirement, and says I have g^ven him the

fullest and fairest notice. ... I saw Manning for two hours this

morning, and let the cat out of the bag to him in part. Ha?e a

note from Lockhart saying the Bishop of London had sent his

chaplain to Murray to express high approval of the article on

Ward — and enclosing the vulgar addition of £63.

Windsor CcLsUe, Jan. 10. — First, owing to the Spanish ambassa-
dor's not appearing. Lady Lyttelton was suddenly invited, and fell
to my lot to hand in and sit by, which was very pleasant. I am^
as you know, a shockingly bad witness to looks, but she appeared
to me, I confess, a little worn and aged. She ought to have at
least two months' holiday every year. After dinner the Queen
inquired as usual about you, and rather particularly with much
interest about Lady Glynne. I told her plainly all I could. This
rather helped the Queen through the conversation, as it kept me
talking, and she was evidently hard pressed at the gaps. Thea
we went to cards, and played commerce ; fortunately I was never
the worst hand, and so was not called upon to pay, for I had locked
up my purse before going to dinner; but I found I had won 2s. 2d-
at the end, 8d. of which was paid me by the Prince. I mean to
keep the 2d. piece (the 6d. I cannot identify) accordingly, imless
I lose it again to-night. I had rather a nice conversation with hinx
about the international copyright convention with Prussia. . . .

WhUehaU, Jan. 11. — I came back from Windsor this momin^f
very kindly used. The Queen mentioned particularly that you
were not asked on account of presumed inconvenience, and seai^
me a private print of the Prince of Wales, and on my thankim^
for it through Lady Lyttelton, another of the Princess. Also sY^^

AT WINDSOR OASTLB 275

>rougbt the little people through the corridor yesterday after CHAP,
luncheon, where they behaved very well, and she made them come ^ ,
and shake hands with me. The Prince of Wales has a very good j^^ 3^,
countenance ; the baby I should call a very fine child indeed. The
Queen said. After your own you must think them dwarfs ; but I
answered that I did not think the Princess Koyal short as com-
pared with Willy. We had more cards last evening ; Lady

made more blunders and was laughed at as usual. . . .

Jan. 13. — I think there will certainly be at least one cabinet
more in the end of the week. My position is what would com-
monly be called uncomfortable. I do not know how long the
Maynooth matter may be held over. I may remain a couple of
months, or only a week — may go at any time at twenty-four
tours' notice. I think on the whole it is an even chance whether
I go before or after the meeting of parliament, so that I am un-
feignedly put to obey the precept of our Lord, * Take no thought
for the morrow ; the morrow will take thought for the things of
itself.* I am sorry that a part of the inconvenience falls on your
imiocent head. I need not tell you the irksomeness of business is
much increased, and one's purposes unmanned by this indefinite-
ness. Still, having very important matters in preparation, I must
not give any signs of inattention or indifference.

Cabinet Roomy Jan. 14. — I have no news to give you about
myself, but continue to be quite in the dark. There is a certain
Maynooth bill in preparation, and when that appears for decision
niy time will probably have come, but I am quite ignorant when
it will be forthcoming. I am to be with Peel to-morrow morning,
^t 1 think on board of trade business only. Graham has just
told us that the draft of the Maynooth bill will be ready on
Saturday ; but it cannot, I think, be considered before the middle
of next week at the earliest.

Jdn. 16. — The nerves are a little unruly on a day like this
t^^een (official) life and death ; so much of feeling mixes with
tte more abstract question, which would be easily disposed of if
it stood alone. (Diary.)

U was February 3 before Mr. Gladstone wrote his last note
from his desk at the board of trade, thanking the prime
^ minister for a thousand acts of kindness which he trusted

\

276 MAYNOOTH

himself not readily to forget. The feeling of the occasion h
described to Manning ; —

1845. Do you know that daily intercourse and co-operation with me
upon matters of great anxiety and moment interweaves much o
one's being with theirs, and parting with them, leaving ther
under the pressure of their work and setting myself free, feels
I think, much like dying : more like it than if I were turning m;
back altogether upon public life. I have received great kindness
and so far as personal sentiments are concerned, I believe the;
are as well among us as they can be.

One other incident he describes to his wife : —

Peel thought I should ask an audience of the Queen on n::
retirement, and accordingly at the palace to^ay (Feb. 3) ]
intimated, and then the lord-in-waiting, as is the usage, fo
mally requested it. I saw the Queen in her private sitting-roon
As she did not commence speaking immediately after the firs
bow, I thought it my part to do so ; and I said, * I have had thi
boldness to request an audience, madam, that I might say witl
how much pain it is that I find myself separated from youi
Majesty's service, and how gratefully I feel your Majesty's
many acts of kindness.' She replied that she regretted it verj
much, and that it was a great loss. I resumed that I had the
greatest comfort I could enjoy under the circumstances in the
knowledge that my feelings towards her Majesty's person anc
service, and also towards Sir R. Peel and my late colleagues
were altogether unchanged by my retirement. After a fev
words more she spoke of the state of the country and the re
duced condition of Chartism, of which I said I believed tb
main feeder was want of employment. At the pauses I watchfe
her eye for the first sign to retire. But she asked me about yo
before we concluded. Then one bow at the spot and another t
the door, which was very near, and so it was all over.

Feb, 4. — Ruminated on the dangers of my explanation righi
and left, and it made me unusually nervous. H. of C. 4^9. I
was kindly spoken of and heard, and I hope attained practicallj
purposes I had in view, but I think the House felt that the last
part by taking away the sting reduced the matter to flatness.

RESIGNATION OP OFFICE

277

According to what is perhaps a questionable usage. Lord

John Russell invited the retiring minister to explain his

secession from oflBce to the House. In the suspicion, dis- j£^]s6.

traction, tension that marked that ominous hour in the

history of English party, people insisted that the i-esignation

of the head of the department of trade must be due to

divergence of judgment upon protection. The prime

minister, while expressing in terms of real feeling his

admiration for Mr. Gladstone's character and ability, and

his high regard for his colleague's private qualities, thought

well to restate that the resignation came from no question

of commercial policy. ' For three years,' he went on, ' I have

been closely connected with Mr. Gladstone in the introduction

of measures relating to the financial policy of the country,

and I feel it my duty openly to avow that it seems almost

impossible that two public men, acting together so long,

should have had so little divergence in their opinions upon

sixch questions.' If anybody found fault with Mr. Gladstone

for not resigning earlier, the prime minister was himself

responsible : * I was unwilling to lose until the latest moment

the advantages I derived from one whom I consider capable

of the highest and most eminent services.'^

* In the course of May, 1845, Peel
m2ide some remarks on resignations,
of which Mr. Gladstone thought the
report worth preserving : — * I admit
tkkix there may be many occasions
'^wlien it would be the duty of a pub-
lic man to retire from office, rather
tlum propose measures which are con-
trary to the principles he has here-
tofore supported. I think that the
propriety of his taking that course
^U mainly depend upon the effect
which his retirement will have upon
the saccess of that public measure,
which he believes to be necessary for
the good of his country. I think it
WM perfectly honourable, perfectly
pist, in my right honourable friend
the late president of the board of
trade to relinquish office. The hon.
gentleman thinks I ought to have
porsoed the same course in 1829.
That was precisely the course I wished
to pursue — it was precisely the course
which I intended to pursue. Until
within a month of the period when

I consented to bring forward the
measure for the relief of the Roman
catholics, I did contemplate retiring
from office — not because I shrank
from the responsibility of proposing
that measure — not from the fear of
being charged with inconsistency —
not because I was not prepared to
make the painful sacrifice of private
friendships and political connections,
but because I believed that my re-
tirement from office would promote
the success of the measure. I thought
that I should more efficiently assist
my noble friend in carrying that
measure if I retired from office, and
gave the measure my cordial support
in a private capacity. I changed my
opinion when it was demonstrated to
me that there was a necessity for
sacrificing my own feelings by retain-
ing office — when it was shown to me
that, however humble my abilities,
yet, considering the station which I
occupied, my retiring from office
would render the carrying of that

278 MAYNOOTH

The point of Mr. Gladstone's reply was in fact an extremely
simple and a highly honourable one. While carefully
1846. abstaining from laying down any theory of political affairs
as under all circumstances inflexible and immutable, yet
he thought that one who had borne such solemn testimooj
as he had borne in his book, to a particular view of a
great question, ought not to make himself responsible for a
material departure from it, without at least placing himself
openly in a position to form a judgment that should be
beyond all mistake at once independent and unsuspected.
That position in respect of the Maynooth policy he could
not hold, so long as he was a member of the cabinet pro-
posing it, and therefore he had resigned, though it was
understood that he would not resist the Maynooth increase
itself. All this, I fancy, might easily have been made plain
even to those who thought his action a display of overstrained
moral delicacy. As it was, his anxiety to explore every nook
and cranny of his case, and to defend or discover in it
every point that human ingenuity could devise for attack,
led him to speak for more than an hour ; at the end of which
even friendly and sympathetic listeners were left wholly at a
loss for a clue to the labyrinth. * What a marvellous talent
is this,' Cobden exclaimed to a friend sitting near him ; ^here
have I been sitting listening with pleasure for an hour to his
explanation, and yet I know no more why he left the govern-
ment than before he began.' *I could not but know,' Mr.
Gladstone wrote on this incident long years after, * that I
should inevitably be regarded as fastidious and fancifoli
fitter for a dreamer or possibly a schoolman, than for the
active purposes of public life in a busy and moving age.'^

Sir Robert Inglis begged him to lead the opposition to
the bill. In the course of the conversation Inglis went back

measure totally impossible — when it tion to the measare, and when mf

was proved to me that there were noble friend intimated to me that h«

objections in the highest quarters thought, if I persevered in my ioten-

which would not be overcome unless tion to retire, success was out of tb^

I was prepared to sacrifice much that question. It was then I did n<**

was dear to me — when it was inti- hesitate to say that I would not ex-

mated to my noble friend that there pose others to obloquy or suspicion**

was an intention on the part of the from which I myself shrunk.*

highest authorities in the church of ^ Gleanings, vii. p. 118.
England to offer a decided oppoei-

VIEWS OF HIS BESIGNATION 279

to the fatal character and consequences of the Act of 1829 ;
and wished that his advice had then been taken, which
was that the Duke of Cumberland should be sent as lord je^[ se.
lieutenant to Ireland with thirty thousand men. ^ As that
good and very kind man spoke the words,' Mr. Gladstone
says, ^ my blood ran cold, and he too had helped me onwards
in the path before me.' William Palmer wrote that the
grant to Maynooth was the sin of 1829 over again, and
would bring with it the same destruction of the conserva-
tive party. Lord Winchilsea, one of his patrons at Newark,
protested against anything that savoured of the national
endowment of Romanism. Mr. Disraeli was reported as
saying that with his resignation on Maynooth Mr. Glad-
stone's career was over.

The rough verdict pronounced his act a piece of political
prudery. One journalistic wag observed, * A lady's footman
jumped off the Great Western train, going forty miles an
hour, merely to pick up his hat. Pretty much like this act,
80 disproportional to the occasion, is Mr. Gladstone's leap out
of the ministry to follow his book.' When the time came he
voted for the second reading of the Maynooth bill (April 11)
with remarkable emphasis. ' I am prepared, in opposition to
what I believe to be the prevailing opinion of the people of
England and of Scotland, in opposition to the judgment of
my own constituents, from whom I greatly regret to differ,
and in opposition to my own deeply cherished predilec-
tions, to give a deliberate and even anxious support to the
measure.'

The * dreamer and the schoolman' meanwhile had left
beliind him a towering monument of hard and strenuous
labour in the shape of that second and greater reform
of the tariff, in which, besides the removal of the export
duty on coal and less serious commodities, no fewer
than four hundred and thirty articles were swept altogether
away from the list of the customs officer. Glass was
freed from an excise amounting to twice or thrice the
value of the article, and the whole figure of remission was
nearly three times as large as the corresponding figure in the
bold operations of 1842. Whether the budget of 1842 or that

280 MAYNOOTH

of 1845 marked the more extensive advance, we need not
discuss ; it is enough that Mr. Gladstone himself set down
1846. ^^^ construction of these two tariffs among the principal
achievements in the history of his legislative works. His
unoflBcial relations with the colleagues whom he had left
were perfectly unchanged. * You will be glad to know,' he
writes to his father, 'that the best feeling, as I believe,
subsists between us. Although our powers of entertaining
guests are not of the first order, yet with a view partly to
these occurrences we asked Sir R. and Lady Peel to dinner
to-day, and also Lord and Lady Stanley and Lord Aberdeen.
•All accepted, but unfortunately an invitation to Windsor has
carried off Sir R. and Lady Peel. A small matter, but I
mention it as a symbol of what is material.'

Before many days were over, he was working day and
night on a projected statement, involving much sifting and
preparation, upon the recent commercial legislation. Lord
John Russell had expressed a desire for a competent com-
mentary on the results of the fiscal changes of 1842, and the
pamphlet in which Mr. Gladstone showed what those result*
had been was the reply. Three editions of it were published
within the year.^

This was not the only service that Mr. Gladstone had an
opportunity of rendering in the course of the session to the
government that he had quitted. * Peel,' he says, * had a
plan for the admission of free labour suga^ on terms of
favour. Lord Palmerston made a motion to show that this
involved a breach of our old treaties with Spain. I ex-
amined the case laboriously, and, though I think his facts
could not be denied, I undertook (myself out of oflBce) to
answer him on behalf of the government. This I did, and
Peel, who was the most conscientious man I ever knew ii^
spareness of eulogium, said to me when I sat down, " Thji''*^
was a wonderful speech, Gladstone." ' The speech took foa^
hours, and was, I think, the last that he made in parliament*

1 * Hemarks upon recent Commer- Right Hon. W. E. Gladstone, M. P. f^^^^

cial Legislation suggested by the ex- Newark.' London, Murray, 1846. >^ ^

pository statement of the Reyenue Gladstone had written on the sarv-^'

from Customs, and other Papers lately subject in the Foreign and ColonC'^^

submitted to Parliament, by the Quarterly Beview, January 1843.

THOUGHTS OF VISITING IRELAND 281

for two years and a half, for reasons that we shall presently
discover.

In the autumn of 1846, Mr. Gladstone made a proposal to
Hope-Scott. *A8 Ireland,' he said, *is likely to find this
country and parliament so much employment for years to
come, I feel rather oppressively an obligation to try and see
it with my own eyes instead of using those of other people,
according to the limited measure of my means.' He sug-
gested that they should devote some time 'to a working
tovir in Ireland, eschewing all grandeur and taking little
acoount of scenery, compared with the purpose of look-
ixxg at close quarters at the institutions for religion and
e<l tication of the country and at the character of the people.'
F^tiilip Pusey was inclined to join them. *It will not alarm
you,' says Pusey, *if I state my belief that in these agrarian
oiJEtrages the Irish peasants have been engaged in a justifiable
cx^il war, because the peasant ejected from his land could no
longer by any efforts of his own preserve his family from the
rxsk of starvation. This view is that of a very calm utili-
t^^kxian, George Lewis.' ^ They were to start from Cork and
tbe south and work their way round by the west, carrying
^irith them Lewis's book, blue books, and a volume or two
of Plato, -Sschylus, and the rest. The expedition was put
off by Pusey's discovery that the Times was despatching a
correspondent to carry on agrarian investigations. Mr.
Gladstone urged that the Irish land question was large
enough for two, and so indeed it swiftly proved, for Ireland
\ra8 now on the edge of the black abysses of the famine.

1 See his memorable work on Irish Disturbances, published in 1836.

CHAPTER X

TRIUMPH OF POLICY AKD FALL OF THE MINISTBE

(^1846)

Change of opinion, in those to whose judgment the public looks
more or less to assist its own, is an evil to the country, although a
much smaller evil than their persistence in a course which they
know to be wrong. It is not always to be blamed. But it is always
to be watched with vigilance ; always to be challenged and put upon
its trial. — Gladstone.

Not lingering for the moment on Mr. Gladstone's varied
pre-occupations during 1846, and not telling over again the
jg^ well-known story of the circumstances that led to the repeal of
the corn law, I pass rapidly to Mr. Gladstone's part — it was a
secondary part — in the closing act of the exciting poUtical
drama on which the curtain had risen in 1841. The end of
the session of 1845 had left the government in appearance
even stronger than it was in the beginning of 1842. Two
of the most sagacious actors knew better what this was
worth. Disraeli was aware how the ties had been loosened
between the minister and his supporters, and Cobden was
aware that, in words used at the time, * three weeks of rain
when the wheat was ripening would rain away the corn law.*^
Everybody knows how the rain came, and alarming signs
of a dreadful famine in Ireland came; how Peel advised
his cabinet to open the ports for a limited period, but
without promising them that if the corn duties were ever
taken oflf, they could ever be put on again ; how Lord John
seized the moment, wrote an Edinburgh letter, and declared
for total and immediate repeal ; how the minister once

1 Perhaps I may refer to my Life publication by Mr. Bright Chapters
of Cobden^ which had the great xiv. and xv.
advantage of being read before

AN BXCniNG DBCBMBBB 283

more called his cabinet together, invited them to support CHAP.
him in settling the question, and as they would not all ^ ^' ^
assent, resigned ; how Lord John tried to form a government ^^ 3^
and failed ; and how Sir Robert again became first minister
of the crown, but not bringing all his colleagues back with
him. *I think,' said Mr. Gladstone in later days, *he
expected to carry the repeal of the corn law without break-
ing up his party, but meant at all hazard to carry it.'

Peel's conduct in 1846, Lord Aberdeen said to a friend ten
years later, was very noble. With the exception of Graham and
myself, his whole cabinet was against him. Lyndhurst, Goulburn,
and Stanley were almost violent in their resistance. Still more
opposed to him, if it were possible, was the Duke of Wellington.
To break up the cabinet was an act of great courage. To resume
office when Lord John had failed in constructing one, was still
more courageous. He said to the Queen : * I am ready to kiss
hands as your minister to-night. I believe I can collect a ministry
which will last long enough to carry free trade, and I am ready to
m&ke the attempt.' When he said this there were only two men
on whom he could rely. One of the first to join him was Welling-
ton. 'The Queen's government,' he said, 'must be carried on.
We have done all that we could for the landed interest. Now we
must do all that we can for the Queen.' ^ •

On one of the days of this startling December, Mr.
Gladstone writes to his father: 'If Peel determines to
fonn a government, and if he sends for me (a compound
uncertainty), I cannot judge what to do until I know much
more than at present of the Irish case. It is there if any-
where that he must find his justification ; there if anywhere
that one returned to parliament as I am, can honestly find
reason for departing at this time from the present corn law.'
Two other letters of Mr. Gladstone's show us more fully
why he followed Peel instead of joining the dissentients, of
whom the most important was Lord Stanley. The first of
these was written to his father four and a half years later : —

6 Carlton Gardens, June 30, 1849. — As respects my * having

^ Ix)pd Aberdeen to Senior, Sept. 1850. Mrs. Simpson's Many Memories^

284 TRIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THE MINISTER

made Peel a free trader/ I have never seen that idea expressed
anywhere, and I think it is one that does great injustice to the
1846. character and power of his mind. In every case, however, the
head of a government may be influenced more or less in the
affairs of each department of state by the person in charge of that
department. If, then, there was any influence at all upon Peel's
mind proceeding from me between 1841 and 1845, I have no
doubt it may have tended on the whole towards free trade. . . -
But all this ceased with the measures of 1845, when I left office.
It was during the alarm of a potato famine in the autumn of
that year that the movement in the government about the
corn laws began. I was then on the continent, looking aftez*
Helen [his sister], and not dreaming of office or public affairs. . . -
I myself had invariably, during PeePs government, spoken of
protection not as a thing good in principle, but to be dealt \\ith
as tenderly and cautiously as might be according to circumstances,
always moving in the direction of free trade. It then appeared to
me that the case was materially altered by events ; it was no longer
open to me to pursue that cautious course. A great struggle
was imminent, in which it was plain that two parties only could
really find place, on the one side for repeal, on the other side for
permanent maintenance of a com law and a protective system
generally and on principle. It would have been more inconsistent
in me, even if consistency had been the rule, to join the latter
party than the former. But independently of that, I thought,
and still think, that the circumstances of the case justified and
required the change. So far as relates to the final change in the
corn law, you will see that no influence proceeded from me,
but rather that events over which I had no control, and steps
taken by Sir R. Peel while I was out of the government, had
an influence upon me in inducing me to take office. I noticed
some days ago that you had made an observation on this subject,
but I did not recollect that it was a question. Had I adverted to
this I should have answered it at once. If I had any motive for
avoiding the subject, it was, I think, this — that it is not easy to
discuss such a question as that of an influence of mine over a
mind so immeasurably superior, without something of egotism and
vanity.

SBCBBTABY OF STATB 285

So much for the general situation. The second letter is to
Mrs. Gladstone, and contributes some personal details : —

13 Carlton House Terrace, Dec, 22, 6 p.m., 1846. — It is offensive JE^. 86.
to begin about myself, but I must. Within the last two hours
1 have accepted the office of secretary for the colonies, succeeding
Lord Stanley, who resigns. The last twenty-four have been very
anxious hours. Yesterday afternoon (two hours after Holy
Communion) Lincoln came to make an appointment on Peel's
part. I went to meet him in Lincoln's house at five o'clock. He
detailed to me the circumstances connected with the late political
changes, asked me for no reply, and gave me quantities of papers
to read, including letters of his own, the Queen's, and Lord J.
Russell's, during the crisis. This morning I had a conversation
with Bonham [the party whipper-in] upon the general merits, but
without telling him precisely what the proposal made to me was.
Upon the whole my mind, though I felt the weight of the
question, was clear. I had to decide what was best to be done
naw. I arrived speedily at the conviction that now, at any rate,
: it is best that the question should be finally settled ; that Peel
je ought and is bound now to try it ; that I ought to support it in
- parliament; that if, in deciding the mode, he endeavours to
include the most favourable terms for the agricultural body that it
is in his power to obtain, I ought not only to support it, by which
I mean vote for it in parliament, but likewise not to refuse to be
a party to the proposal. I found from him that he entirely recog-
nised this view, and did feel himself bound to make the best
terms that he believed attainable, while, on the other hand, I am
convinced that we are now in a position that requires provision to
be made for the final abolition of the corn law. Such being the
state of matters, with a clear conscience, but with a heavy heart,
I accepted office. He was exceedingly warm and kind. But it
Kos with a heavy heart. ... I have seen Lord Stanley. * I am
extremely glad to hear you have taken office,' said he. We go
to Windsor to-morrow to a council — he to resign the seals, and I
to receive them.
In the diary he enters : —

Saw Sir R. Peel at 3, and accepted office — in opposition, as I
have the consolation of feeling, to my leanings and desires, and

286 TRIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THB MIKISTBB

with the most precarious prospects. Peel was most kind, nay
fatherly. We held hands instinctively, and I could not but
1846. reciprocate with emphasis his * God bless you.*

I well remember, Mr. Gladstone wrote in a memorandum of
Oct. 4, 1851, Feel's using language to me in the Duke of New-
castle's house on Sunday, Dec. 21, 1845, which, as I conceive,
distinctly intimated his belief that he would be able to carry his
measure, and at the same time hold his party together. He spoke
with a kind of glee and complacency in his tone when he said,
making up his meaning by signs, * I have not lived near forty
years in public life to find myself wholly without the power of
foreseeing the course of events in the House of Commons'— in

reference to the very point of the success of his government

fl
One thing is worth noting as we pass. The exact proceed-
ings of the memorable cabinets of November and the open-
ing days of December are still obscure. It has generally
been held that Disraeli planted a rather awkward stroke
when he taunted Peel with his inconsistency in declaring
that he was not the proper minister to propose repeal, and
yet in trying to persuade his colleagues to make the attempt
before giving the whigs a chance. The following note of
Mr. Gladstone's (written in 1851 after reading Sir R. Peel's
original memoir on the Com Act of 1846) throws some light
on the question : —

When Sir R. Peel invited me to take office in December 1845
he did not make me aware of the offer he had made to the cabinet
in his memorandum, I think of Dec. 2, to propose a new com law
with a lowered sliding duty, which should diminish annually by
a shilling until in some eight or ten years the trade would be free.
Ko doubt he felt that after Lord John Russell had made bis
attempt to form a government, and after, by Lord Stanley's
resignation, he had lost the advantages of unanimity, he could not
be justified in a proposal involving so considerable an element of
protection. It has become matter of history. But as matter of
history it is important to show how honestly and perseveringly
he strove to hold the balance fairly between contending claims,
and how far he was from being the mere puppet of abstract
theories.

OUT OP PARLIAMENT 287

That is to say, what he proposed to his cabinet early in
December was not the total and immediate repeal to which
he was led by events before the end of the month. W.37.

II
The acceptance of office vacated the seat at Newark, and
Mr. Gladstone declined to offer himself again as a candidate.
He had been member for Newark for thirteen years, and
had been five times elected. So ended his connection with
the first of the five constituencies that in his course he repre-
sented. ^I part from my constituents,' he tells his father,
* with deep regret. Though I took office under circumstances
which might reasonably arouse the jealousy of my friends, an
agricaltural constituency, the great majority of my committee
were prepared to support me, and took action and strong
^ measures in my favour.' *My deep obligation,' he says, *to
the Duke of Newcastle for the great benefit he conferred
upon me, not only by his unbroken support, but, far above
all, by his original introduction of me to the constituency,
made it my duty at once to decline some overtures made to
me for the support of my re-election, so it only remained to
seek a seat elsewhere.' Some faint hopes were entertained
by Mr. Gladstone's friends that the duke might allow him
to sit for the rest of the parliament, but the duke was not
the man to make concessions to a betrayer of the territorial
interest. Mr. Gladstone, too, we must not forget, was still
and for many years to come, a tory. When it was suggested
that he might stand for North Notts, he wrote to Lord
Linc(dn : — 'It is not for one of my political opinions without
ao extreme necessity to stand upon the basis of democratic
or popular feeling against the local proprietary : for you who
are placed in the soil the case is very different.'

Soon after the session of 1846 began, it became known

that the protectionist petition against the Peelite or

Kberal sitting member for Wigan was likely to succeed

in unseating him. 'Proposals were made to me to succeed

iim, which were held to be eligible. I even wrote my

address ; on a certain day, I was going down by the mail

train. But it was an object for our opponents to keep a

288 TRIUMPH OF POLIOY — FALL OF THB MINISTER

BOOK secretary of state out of parliament during the corn law
^ ^^' , crisis, and their petition was suddenly withdrawn. The
1S46. consequence was that I remained until the resignation of
the government in July a minister of the crown without a
seat in parliament. This was a state of things not agree-
able to the spirit of parliamentary government ; and some
objection was taken, but rather slightly, in the House
of Commons. Sir R. Peel stood fire.' There can be little
doubt that in our own day a cabinet minister without a
seat in either House of parliament would be regarded,
in Mr. Gladstone's words, as a public inconvenience and
a political anomaly, too dark to be tolerated; and he
naturally felt it his absolute duty to peep in at every
chink and cranny where a seat in parliament could be had.
A Peelite, however, had not a good chance at a by-elec-
tion, and Mr. Gladstone remained out of the House until .
the general election in the year following.^ Lord Lincoln,
also a member of the cabinet, vacated his seat, but, unlike
his friend, found a seat in the course of the session.

Mr. Gladstone's brother-in-law, Lyttelton, was invited
to represent the colonial oflBce in the Lords, but had
qualms of conscience about the eternal question of the
two Welsh bishoprics. ' How could the government of this
wonderful empire,' Peel wrote to Mr. Gladstone, 'be ever
constructed, if a difference on such a point were to be an
obstruction to union? Might not any one now say with
perfect honour and, what is of more importance (if they are
not identical), perfect satisfaction to his own conscience, **I
will not so far set up my own judgment on one isolated
measure against that of a whole administration, to such an
extent as to preclude me from co-operation with them at a
critical period." This, of course, assumes general accordance
of sentiment on the great outlines of public policy.' Wise

1 Sibthorp aaked Peel in the H. but if P. would dissolve he would

of C. when Gladstone and Lincoln welcome Gladstone to Lincoln— or

woidd appear. Peel replied that if P. himself ; and added privately thai

8. would take the Ch litem Hundreds, he would give P. or G. best bottle

G. should stand against him. S. of wine in his cellar if he would come

retorted that the Chiltem Hundreds to Lincoln and fight him fairly. ~

is a place under government, and he Lord Broughton*8 Diaries.
would never take place from Peel;

THE SESSION OF 1846 289

ivords and sound, that might prevent some of the worst
mistakes of some of the best men.

in
This memorable session of 1846 was not a session of
argument, but of lobby computations. The case had been
argued to the dregs, the conclusion was fixed, and all
interest was centred in the play of forces, the working of
high motives and low, the balance of parties, the secret
ambitions and antagonism of persons. Mr. Gladstone there-
fore was not in the shaping of the pai*liamentary result
seriously missed, as he had been missed in 1845. ^It soon
became evident,' says a leading whig in his journal of the
time, 'that Peel had very much over-rated his strength.
Even the expectation of December that he could have
carried with him enough of his own followers to enable
Lord John, if that statesman had contrived to form a gov-
ernment, to pass the repeal of the corn law, was perceived to
have been groundless, when the formidable number of the
protectionist dissentients appeared. So many even of those
who remained with Peel avowed that they disapproved of
the measure, and only voted in its favour for the purpose of
supporting Peel's government.' ^ The tyranny of the accom-
plished fact obscures one's sense of the danger that Peel's
high courage averted. It is not certain that Lord John as
head of a government could have carried the whole body of
whigs for total and immediate repeal, Lord Lansdowne and
Palmerston openly stating their preference for a fixed duty,
and not a few of the smaller men cursing the precipitancy
of the Edinburgh letter. It is certain, as is intimated above,
that Peel could not have carried over to him the whole of
the 112 men who voted for repeal solely because it was his
measure. In the course of this session Sir John Hobhouse
met Mr. Disraeli at an evening party, and expressed a fear
lest Peel having broken up one party would also be the
means of breaking up the other. * That, you may depend
upon it, he will,' replied Disraeli, * or any other party that he
has anjrthing to do with.' It was not long after this, when all

1 Halifax Papers,

• VOL. I — u

.fflT.87.

290 TRIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THE MINISTER

was oyer, that the Duke of Wellingtou told Lord Jo
that he thought Peel was tired of party and was determiD
1846. ^ destroy it. After the repeal of the com law was sa
the minister was beaten on the Irish coercion bill by wl
Wellingfton called a ' blackguard combination * between t
whigs and the protectionists. He resigned, and Lord Jo
Russell at the head of the whigs came in.

* Until three or four days before the division on t
coercion bill,* Mr. Gladstone says in a memorandum writt
at the time, ^ I had not the smallest idea, beyond mc
conjecture, of the views and intentions of Sir R. Peel wi
respect to himself or to his government. Only we h
been governed in all questions, so far as I knew, by t
determination to carry the corn bill and to let no collate:
circumstance interfere with that main purpose. ... ]
sent round a memorandum some days before the divisi
arguing for resignation against dissolution. There was al
a correspondence between the Duke of Wellington and hL
The duke argued for holding our ground and dissolvin
But when we met in cabinet on Friday the 26th of June, r
an opposing voice was raised. It was the shortest cabinet
ever knew. Peel himself uttered two or three introducto
sentences. He then said that he was convinced that t
formation of a conservative party was impossible while
continued in office. That he had made up his mind
resign. That he strongly advised the resignation of t
entire government. Some declared their assent. No
objected ; and when he asked whether it was unanimo;
there was no voice in the negative.' 'This was simpl
as Mr. Gladstone added in later notes, ' because he had vej
distinctly and positively stated his own resolution to resig]
It amounted therefore to this, — no one proposed to go c
without him.' One other note of Mr. Gladstone's on th
grave decision is worth quoting : —

I must put into words the opinion which I silently formed
my room at the colonial office in June 1846, when I got the circ
lation box with PeePs own memorandum not only arguing
favour of resignation but intimating his own intention to resij

f

DEFBAT OF THE GOVERNMENT

291

and with the Duke of Wellington's in the opposite sense. The
duke, in my opinion, was right and Peel wrong, but he had
borne the brunt of battle already beyond the measure of human j£^^ 37^
strength, and who can wonder that his heart and soul as well as
ii^is physical organisation needed rest ? ^

In announcing his retirement to the House (June 29),
p^^el passed a magnanimous and magnificent eulogium
OKI Cobden.* Strange to say, the panegyric gave much
ofifence, and among others to Mr. Gladstone. The next day
hi.^ entered in his diary : —

Much comment is made upon Peel's declaration about Cobden

l2L£t night. My objection to it is that it did not do full justice.

IB* or if his power of discussion has been great and his end good,

^bjLs tone has been most harsh and his imputation of bad and vile

xzi^otives to honourable men incessant. I do not think the thing

^OT^as done in a manner altogether worthy of PeePs mind. But he,

XiJke some smaller men, is, I think, very sensible of the sweetness

o£ the cheers of opponents.

He describes himself at the time as ^ grieved and hurt ' at
tliese closing sentences ; and even a year later, in answer to
some inquiry from his father, who still remained protection-
ist, he wrote : ' July 1, '47. — I do not know anything about
Peel's having repented of his speech about Cobden ; but I
liope that he has seen the great objection to which it is, as

I think, fairly open.' Some of his own men who voted for

Peel declared that after this speech they bitterly repented.
The suspected personal significance of the Cobden

panegyric is described in a memorandum written by Mr.

Gladstone a few days later (July 12) : —

A day or two afterwards I met Lord Stanley crossing the park.

^ CoMen also wrote to Peel strongly
Qipng him to hold on, and Peel re-
plied with an effective defence of his
own Tiew. Life of Cohdetiy i. chap. 18.
* ' There is a name that ought to be
ttMciated with the success of these
neaOTres ; it is not the name of Lord
John Ruasell, neither is it my name.
Sir, the name which ought to be, and
irill be, associated with these meas-
ures is the name of a man who, acting

from pure and disinterested motives,
has advocated their cause with un-
tiring energy, and by appeals to reason
expressed by an eloquence the more
to be admired because it was un-
affected and unadorned — the name
which ought to be associated with
the success of these measures is the
name of Richard Cobden. Without
scruple, Sir, I attribute the success
of these measures to him.*

292 TBIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THB MINI8TBB

and we had some conversation, first on colonial matters. Then
he said, * Well, I think our friend Peel went rather far last night
1846. about Gobden, did he not ? ' I stated to him my very deep regret
on reading that passage (as well as what followed about the
monopolists), and that, not for its impolicy but for its injustice.
All that he said was true, but he did not say the whole truth ;
and the effect of the whole, as a whole, was therefore untrue.
Mr. Cobden has throughout argued the com question on the
principle of holding up the landlords of England to the people, as
plunderers and as knaves for maintaining the com law to save
their rents, and as fools because it was not necessary for that
purpose. This was passed by, while he was praised for sincerity,
eloquence, indefatigable zeal.

On Thursday the 2nd I saw Lord Aberdeen. He agreed in
the general regret at the tone of that part of the speech. He
said he feared it was designed with a view to its effects, for the
purpose of making it impossible that Peel should ever again be
placed in connection with the conservative party as a party. He
said that Peel had absolutely made up his mind never again to lead
it, never again to enter office ; that he had indeed made up his
mind, at one time, to quit parliament, but that probably on th^
Queen's account, and in deference to her wishes, he had abandonee^
this part of his intentions. But that he was fixed in the idea tt^
maintain his independent and separate position, taking part ixx
public questions as his views of public interests might from tinxe
to time seem to require. I represented that this for ^im, and in
the House of Commons, was an intention absolutely impossible
to fulfil ; that with his greatness he could not remain there over-
shadowing and eclipsing all governments, and yet have to do
with no governments; that acts cannot for such a man be
isolated, they must be in series, and his view of public affairs
must coincide with one body of men rather than another, and
that the attraction must place him in relations with them. Lord
Aberdeen said that Earl Spencer in his later days was Sir R. Peel's
ideal, — rare appearances for serious purposes, and without com-
promise generally to the independence of his personal habits. I
put it that this was possible in the House of Lords, but only
there. ... On Saturday I saw him again as he came from the

peel's tribute to cobden 293

palace. He represented that the Queen was sorely grieved at this CHAP,
change ; which indeed I had already heard from Catherine through y ' j
Lady Lyttelton, but this showed that it continued. And again on j^^ 37.
^londay we heard through Lady Lytt^lton that the Queen said
it was a comfort to think that the work of that day would soon
be over. It appears too that she spoke of the kindness she had
received from her late ministers ; and that the Prince's sentiments
are quite as decided.

On Monday we delivered up the seals at our several audiences.
Her Majesty said simply but very kindly to me, * I am very
sorry to receive them from you.' I thanked her for my father's
baronetcy, and apologised for his not coming to court. She had
her glove half off, which made me think I was to kiss hands ; but
she simply bowed and retired. Her eyes told tales, but she smiled
and put on a cheerful countenance. It was in fact the 1st of
September 1841 over again as to feelings; but this time with
more mature judgment and longer experience. Lord Aberdeen
and Sir J. Graham kissed hands, but this was by favour.

The same night I saw Sidney Herbert at Lady Pembroke's. He
gave me in great part the same view of Sir R. Peel's speech,
himself holding the same opinion with Lord Aberdeen. But he
thought that Peel's natural temper, which he said is very
violent though usually under thorough discipline, broke out and
Coloured that part of the speech, but that the end in view was to
cutoff all possibility of reunion. He referred to a late conversation
^ith Peel, in which Peel had intimated his intention of remaining
in parliament and acting for himself without party, to which
Herbert replied that he knew of no minister who had done so
except lord Bute, a bad precedent. Peel rejoined ' Lord Grenville,'
showing that his mind had been at work upon the subject. He had
heard him not long ago discussing his position with Lord Aberdeen
and Sir James Graham, when he said, putting his hand up to the
side of his head, ' Ah ! you do not know what I suffer here.'

Yesterday Lord Lyndhurst called on me. . . . He proceeded

to ask me what I thought with respect to our political course.

He said he conceived that the quarrel was a bygone quarrel,

that the animosities attending it ought now to be forgotten, and

the old relations of amity and confidence among the members

294 TBIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THB HINI8TEB

of the oonservative body resumed. I told him, in the first place,

that I felt some difficulty in answering him in my state of total

184^ ignorance, so far as direct communication is concerned, of Sir

B. Peel's knowledge and intentions ; that on Tuesday I had seen

him on colonial matters, and had talked on the probable intentions

of the new government as to the sugar duties, but that I did not

like to ask what he did not seem to wish to tell, and that I did not

obtain the smallest inkling of light as to his intentions in respect

to that very matter now immediately pending. He observed it

was a pity Sir R. Peel was so uncommunicative ; but that after

having been so long connected with him, he would certainly be

very unwilling to do anything disagreeable to him; still, if I

and others thought fit, he was ready to do what he could towards

putting the party together again. I then replied that I thought,

so far as extinguishing the animosities which had been raised in

connection with the corn law was concerned, I could not doubt its

propriety, that I thought we were bound to give a fair trial to

the government, and not to assume beforehand an air of opposition,

and that if so much of confidence is due to them, much more is

it due towards friends from whom we have differed on the single

question of free trade, that our confidence should be reposed in

them. That I thought, however, that in any case, before acting

together as a party, we ought to consider well the outline of our

further course, particularly with reference to Irish questions and

the church there, as I was of opinion that it was very doubtful

whether we had now a justification for opposing any change

with respect to it, meaning as to the property. He said with Mb

accustomed facility, * Ah yes, it will require to be considered what

course we shall take.' ^

I met Lord Aberdeen the same afternoon in Bond Street, and.
told him the substance of this conversation. He said, * It is 8tate<3-
that Lord G. Bentinck is to resign, and that they are to har^
you.' That, I replied, was quite new to me. The (late) chancello"*^
had simply said, when I pointed out that the difficulties lay rr:*
the House of Commons, that it was true, and that my being ther^
would make the way more open. I confess I am very doubtfi
of that, and much disposed to believe that I am regretted,

1 See Life of Lord Lyndhurst, by Lord Campbell, p. 163.

OONVEBBATIONS WITH 0OLLBA6UE8 295

things and persons absent often are, in oomparison with the CHAP.

present At dinner I sat between Graham and Jocelyn. The ^^ ^* ^

latter observed particularly on the absence from Sir B. Peel's jEn.SI.

speech of any acknowledgment towards his supporters and his

coUei^iies. These last, however, are named. Jocelyn said the

new government were much divided. . . . Jocelyn believes that

Lord Palmerston will not be very long in union with this cabinet.

With Sir J. Graham I had much interesting conversation. I

told him, I thought it but fair to mention to him the regret and

blame which I foimd to have been elicited from all persons whom

I saw and conversed with, by the passage relating to Cobden. He

said he believed it was the same on all hands ; and that the new

government in particular were most indignant at it. He feared

that it was deliberately preconceived and for the purpose ; and

went on to repeat what Lord Aberdeen had told me, that Sir E.

Peel had been within an ace of quitting parliament, and was

determined to abjure party and stand aloof for ever, and never

lesume office. I replied as before, that in the House of Commons

it was impossible. He went on to sketch the same kind of future

for himself. He was weary of labour at thirteen or fourteen hours

a day, and of the intolerable abuse to which he was obliged to

submit ; but his habits were formed in the House of Commons and

for it, and he was desirous to continue there as an independent

gentleman, taking part from time to time in public business as he

might find occasion, and giving his leisure to his family and to

books. I said, * Are you not building houses of cards ? Do you

conceive that men who have played a great part, who have swayed

the great moving forces of the state, who have led the House of

Commons and given the tone to public i)olicy, can at their will

remain there, but renounce the consequences of their remaining,

and refuse to fulfil what must fall to them in some contingency

of public affairs ? The country will demand that they who are the

ablest shall not stand by inactive.' He said Sir Robert Peel had

all but given up his seat. I answered that would at any rate have

made his resolution a practicable one.

He said, * You can have no conception of what the virulence is
sgainst Peel and me.' I said, No; that from having been out of
P^liament during these debates my sense of these things was less

296 TRIUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THE MINiSTER

lively and my position in some respects different. He replied,
* Your position is quite different You are free to take any course
1846. J^^ please with perfect honour.' I told him of Lord Lyndhurst's
visit and the purport of his conversation, of the meaning of the
junction on the opposition bench in the Lords, and of what we had
said of the difficulties in the Commons. He said, ' My resentment
is not against the new government, but against the seventy-three
conservative members of parliament who displaced the late govern-
ment by a factious vote; nearly all of them believed the bill to
be necessary for Ireland ; and they knew that our removal was
not desired by the crown, not desired by the country. I find no
fault with the new ministers, they are fairly in possession of
power — but with those gentlemen I can never unite.' Later,
however, in the evening he relented somewhat, and said he must
admit that what they did was done under great provocation ; that
it was no wonder they regarded themselves as betrayed; and that
unfortunately it had been the fate of Sir E. Peel to perform a
similar operation twice. . . .

Graham dwelt with fondness and with pain on Lord Stanley ;
said he had very great qualities — that his speech on the com law,
consisting as it did simply of old fallacies though in new dress,
was a magnificent speech, one of his greatest and happiest efforts—
that all his conduct in the public eye had been perfectly free from
exception ; that he feared, however, he had been much in Lord Geo.
Bentinck's counsels, and had concurred in much more than he had ^
himself done, and had aided in marking out the course taken
in the House of Commons. He had called on Lord Stanley
several times but had never been able to see him, he trusted
through accident, but seemed to doubt.

On the Cobden eulogy, though he did not defend it outright by
any means, he said, ^ Do you think if Cobden had not existed the
repeal of the corn law would have been carried at this moment?'
I said very probably not, that he had added greatly to the
force of the movement and accelerated its issue, that I admitted
the truth of every word that Peel had uttered, but complained of
its omissions, of its spirit towards his own friends, of its false
moral effect, as well as and much more than of its mere impolicy.*

1 Six years later (Nov. 26, 1862), mons said of Cobden, with words of
Mr. Gladstone in the House of Com- characteristic qualification : — *AgTe^

FABBWELL D^TEBVIBW WITH PBBL 297

IV

Still more interesting is an interview with the fallen
minister himself, written ten days after it took place : —

July 24. — On Monday the 13th I visited Sir R. Peel, and f oimd
him in his dressing-room laid up with a cut in one of his feet. My
immediate purpose was to let him know the accounts from New
Zealand which Lord Grey had communicated to me. . . . How-
ever / led on from subject to subject, for I thought it my duty not
to quit town, at the end possibly of my political connection with
Sir K. Peel, that is if he determined to individualise himself,
without giving the opportunity at least for free communication.
Though he opened nothing, yet he followed unreluctantly. I said
the government appeared to show signs of internal discord or
weakness. He said. Yes ; related that Lord John did not mean to
include Lord Grey, that he sent Sir G. Grey and C. Wood to
propitiate him, that Lord Grey was not only not hostile but
volunteered his services. At last I broke the ice and said, ' You
have seen Lord Lyndhurst.' He said, 'Yes.' I mentioned the
substance of my interview with Lord Lyndhurst, and also what I
had heard from Goulbum of his. He said, * I am hora de combat^
I said to him, ' Is that possible ? Whatever your present inten-
tions may be, can it be done ? ' He said he had been twice prime
minister, and nothing should induce him again to take part in
the formation of a government ; the labour and anxiety were too
great ; and he repeated more than once emphatically with regard
to the work of his post, * No one in the least degree knows what
it is. I have told the Queen that I part from her with the deepest
sentiments of gratitude and attachment; but that there is one
thing she must not ask of me, and that is to place myself again
in the same position.' Then he spoke of the immense accumula-
tion. ' There is the whole correspondence with the Queen, several
[ times a day, and all requiring to be in my own hand, and to be
i carefully done ; the whole correspondence with peers and members

{ you may in his general politics, or you impossible for us to deny that those

{ may not ; complain you may, if you benefits of which we are now acknow-

\ think you have cause, of the mode ledging the existence are, in no small

and force with which in the freedom part at any rate, due to the labours

of debate he commonly states his in which he has borne so prominent

opinions in this House. But it is a share.'

iBr. 87.

298 TRIUMPH OP POUOY — FALL OF THE HIVI8TER

of parliament, in my own hand, as well as other persons of con-
sequence ; the sitting seven or eight hours a day to listen in the
1840. ^ouse of Commons. Then I must, of course, have my mind in
the principal subjects connected with the various departments, such
as the Oregon question for example, and all the reading connected
with them. I can hardly tell you, for instance, what trouble the
Kew Zealand question gave me. Then there is the difficulty that
you have in conducting such questions on account of your
colleague whom they concern.'

It was evident from this, as it had been from other signs, that
he did not think Stanley had been happy in his management of the
New Zealand question. I said, however, * I can quite assent to the
proposition that no one understands the labour of your post ; that,
I think, is all I ever felt I could know about it, that there is
nothing else like it. But then you have been prime minister
in a sense in which no other man has been it since Mr. Pitt's time.'
He said, * But Mr. Pitt got up every day at eleven o'clock, and
drank two bottles of port wine every night.' ' And died of old
age at forty-six,' I replied. 'This all strengthens the case. I
grant your full and perfect claim to retirement in point of justice
and reason ; if such a claim can be made good by amount of
service, I do not see how yours could be improved. You liave
had extraordinary physical strength to sustain you ; and you have
performed an extraordinary task. Your government has not beea
carried on by a cabinet, but by the heads of departments each ia
communication with you.' He assented, and added it had been
what every government ought to be, a government of coa-
fidence in one another. ' I have felt the utmost confidence as ta
matters of which I had no knowledge, and so have the rest. Lord
Aberdeen in particular said that nothing would induce him to
hold office on any other principle, or to be otherwise than perfectly
free as to previous consultations.' And he spoke of the defects
of the Melbourne government as a mere government of depart-
ments without a centre of unity, and of the possibility that the new
ministers might experience difficulty in the same respect. I then
went on to say, ' Mr. Perceval, Lord Liverpool, Lord Melbourne
were not prime ministers in this sense ; what Mr. Canning might
have been, the time was too short to show. I fully grant that

FAREWELL INTERVIEW WITH PEEL 299

your laboiirs have been incredible, but, allow me to say, that is CHAP,
not the question. The question is not whether you are entitled ^ j

to retire, but whether after all you have done, and in the position ^^^ 37^
you occupy before the country, you can remain in the House of
Commons as an isolated person, and hold yourself aloof from the
great movements of political forces which sway to and fro there ?'
He said, ' I think events will answer that question better than
any reasoning beforehand/ I replied, 'That is just what I should
rely upon, and should therefore urge how impossible it is for you
to lay down with certainty a foregone conclusion such as that
which you have announced to-day, and which events are not to
influence, merely that you will remain in parliament and yet
separate yourself from the parliamentary system by which our
government is carried on.' Then he said, (If it is necessary I
will) * go out of parliament ' — the first part of the sentence was
indistinctly muttered, but the purport such as I have described.
To which I merely replied that I hoped not, and that the country
would have something to say upon that too. . . .

No man can doubt that he is the strong man of this parliament
—of this political generation. Then it is asked. Is he honest?
But this is a question which I think cannot justly be raised nor
treated as admissible in the smallest degree by those who have
knovrn and worked with him. . . . He spoke of the immense
multiplication of details in public business and the enormous
task imposed upon available time and strength by the work of
Jittendance in the House of Commons. He agreed that it was
extremely adverse to the growth of greatness among our public
men ; and he said the mass of public business increased so fast
that he could not tell what it was to end in, and did not venture
to speculate even for a few years upon the mode of administer-
ing public affairs. He thought the consequence was already
manifest in its being not well done.

It sometimes occurred to him whether it would after all be a

good arrangement to have the prime minister in the House of

lords, which would get rid of the very encroaching duty of

attendance on and correspondence with the Queen. I asked if

in that case it would not be quite necessary that the leader in the

Commons should frequently take upon himself to make decisions

300 TRIUMPH OF POUOY — FALL QF THE MINISTEB

which ought properly to be made by the head of the govemment ?
He said, Certainly, and that that would constitute a great difficulty.
l^ That although Lord Melbourne might be very well adapted to
take his part in such a plan, there were, he believed, difficulties in
it under him when Lord J. Bussell led the House of Commons.
That when he led the House in 1828 under the Duke of Wellington
as premier, he had a very great advantage in the disposition of the
duke to follow the judgments of others in whom he had confidence
with respect to all civil matters. He said it was impossible dur-
ing the session even to work the public business through the
medium of the cabinet, such is the pressure upon time. . . . He
told me he had suffered dreadfuUy in his head on the left side —
that twenty-two or twenty-three years ago he injured the ear
by the use of a detonating tube in shooting. Since then he
had always had a noise on that side, and when he had the work
of office upon him, this and the pain became scarcely bearable at
times, as I understood him. Brodie told him that ' as some over-
work one part and some another, he had overworked his brain,'
but he said that with this exception his health was good. It was
pleasant to me to find and feel by actual contact as it were (though
I had no suspicion of the contrary) his manner as friendly and^
as much unhurt as at any former period.

Before leaving office Peel wrote to Mr. Gladstone (June 20^
requesting him to ask his father whether it would 1^^
acceptable to him to be proposed to the Queen for ^
baronetcy. ' I should name him to the Queen,' he said, ' c^s
the honoured representative of a great class of the corxi-
munity which has raised itself by its integrity and indust:»*j
to high social eminence. I should gratify also my own
feeling by a mark of personal respect for a name truly worthy
of such illustration as hereditary honour can confer.' John
Gladstone replied in becoming words, but honestly mentioned
that he had published his strong opinion of the injurious
consequences that he dreaded from 'the stupendous experi-
ment about to be made' in commercial policy. Peel tol(3L-
him that this made no diiference.^

1 Parker, iu. pp. 434-6.

LORD 6B0B6B BBNTINCK 301

At the close of the session a trivial incident occurred

that caused Mr. Gladstone a disproportionate amount of

vexation for several months. Hume stated in the House jet.87.

that the colonial secretary had countersigned what was a lie,

in a royal patent appointing a certain Indian judge. The

*' lie ' consisted in reciting that a judge then holding the post

had resigned, whereas he had not resigned, and the correct

phrase was that the Queen had permitted him to retire. .

Lord George Bentinck, whose rage was then at its fiercest,

pricked up his ears, and a day or two later declared that

Mr. Secretary Gladstone had ^deliberately affirmed, not

through any oversight or inadvertence or thoughtlessness,

but designedly and of his own malice prepense, that which

in his heart he knew not to be true.' Things of this sort

may either be passed over in disdain, or taken with logician's

severity. Mr. Gladstone might well have contented himself

with the defence that his signature had been purely formal,

and that every secretary of state is called upon to put his

name to recitals of minute technical fact which he must

take on trust from his officials. As it was, he chose to take

Bentinck's reckless aspersion at its highest, and the combat

lasted for weeks and months. Bentinck got up the case

with his usual industrious tenacity; he insisted that the

Queen's name stood at that moment in the degrading

position of being prefixed to a proclamation that all her

subjects knew to recite and to be founded upon falsehood ;

he declared that the whole business was a job perpetrated

by the outgoing ministers, to fill up a post that was not

vacant ; he imputed no corrupt motive to Mr. Gladstone ;

he admitted that Mr. Gladstone was free from the betrayal

and treachery practised by his political friends ; but he could

not acquit him of having been in this particular affair the

tool and the catspaw of two old foxes greedier and craftier

than himself. To all this unmannerly stuff the recipient

of it only replied by holding its author the more tight to the

point of the original offence ; the blood of his highland

ancestors was up, and the poet's contest between eagle and

serpent was not more dire. The affair was submitted to

Lord Stanley. He reluctantly consented (Oct. 29) to decide

302 TfilUMPH OF POLICY — FALL OF THE MIKISTEB

the single question whether Bentinck was justified ^ on the
information before him in using the language quoted.' There
1846. ^^ ^ dispute what information Bentinck had before him, and
upon this point, where Bentinck's course might in his own
polite vocabulary be marked as pure shuffling, Lord Stanley
returned the papers (Feb. 8, 1847) and expressed his deep
regret that he could bring about no more satisfactory result.
. Even so late as the spring of 1847 Mr. Gladstone was only
dissuaded by the urgent advice of Lord Lincoln and others
from pursuing the fray. It was, so far as I know, the only
personal quarrel into which he ever allowed himself to be
drawn.

CHAPTER XI

THE TEACTABIAN CATASTBOPHE

(^1841-1846)

Thx moyement of 1833 started out of the anti-Roman feelings of
the Emancipation time. It was anti-Roman aa much as it was
anti-sectarian and anti-erastian. It was to avert the danger of
people becoming Romanists from ignorance of church principles.
This was all changed in one important section of the party. The
fundamental conceptions were reversed. It was not the Roman
church but the English church that was put on its trial. . . . From
this point of view the object of the movement was no longer to
elevate and improve an independent English church, but to approxi-
mate it as far as possible to what was assumed to be undeniable —
the perfect catholicity of Rome. — Dean Church.

The fall of Peel and the break-up of his party in the

state coincided pretty nearly with a hardly less memorable

rupture in that rising party in the church, with which Mr. ^t!36.

Gladstone had more or less associated himself almost from

its beginning. Two main centres of authority and leading

in the land were thus at the same moment dislodged and

dispersed. A long struggle in secular concerns had come

to a decisive issue; and the longer struggle in religious

concerns had reached a critical and menacing stage. The

reader will not wonder that two events so far-reaching as

the secession of Newman and the fall of Sir Robert, coupled

as these public events were with certain importunities of

domestic circumstance of which I shall have more to say

by and by, brought Mr. Gladstone to an epoch in his life of

extreme perturbation. Roughly it may be said to extend

from 1845 to 1852.

At the time of his resignation in the beginning of
^W5, he wrote to Lord John Manners, then his colleague
^^ Newark, a curious account of his views on party life.

303

80:1 THE TBACTABIAK CATASTROPHE

Lord John was then acting with the Young England group
inspired by Disraeli, who has left a picture of them in
1846. Sybils the most far-seeing of all his novels.

To Lord John Manners.

Jan. 30, 1845. — Tou, I have no doubt, are disappointed as to the
working of a conservative government And so should I be if I
were to estimate its results by a comparison with the anticipations
which, from a distance and in the abstract, I had once entertamed
of political life. But now my expectations not only from this but
from any government are very small. If they do a little good, if
they prevent others from doing a good deal of evil, if they main-
tain an unblemished character, it is my fixed conviction that under
the circumstances of the times I can as an independent member of
parliament, for I am now virtually such, ask no more. And I do
entertain the strongest impression that if, with your honourable
and upright mind, you had been called upon for years to consult as
one responsible for the movements of great parliamentary bodies,
if you thus had been accustomed to look into public questions at
close quarters, your expectations from an administration, and your
dispositions towards it, would be materially changed. . . .

The principles and moral powers of government as such are sink-
ing day by day, and it is not by laws and parliaments that they
can be renovated. ... I must venture even one step further, and
say that such schemes of regeneration as those which were pro-
pounded (not, I am bound to add, by you) at Manchester,^ appear
to me to be most mournful delusions ; and their re-issue, for their
real parentage is elsewhere, from the bosom of the party to which
we belong, an omen of the worst kind if they were likely to obtain
currency under the new sanction they have received. It is most
easy to complain as you do of laissez-faire and laissez-aUer ; nor
do I in word or in heart presume to blame you ; but I should
sorely blame myself if with my experience and convictions of ik
growing impotence of government for its hitjhest functions, I were
either to recommend attempts beyond its powers, which would re-
act unfavourably upon its remaining capabilities, or to be a party to

1 Some proceedings, I think, of Mr. Disraeli and his Toung England
friends.

BELIGIOK AT OXFORD 805

proposed substitutes for its true moral and paternal work which CHAP.
ippear to me mere counterfeits. v__^

^T. 36.
On this letter we may note in passing, first, that the tariff

^gislation did in the foundations what the Young England
srty wished to do in a superficial and flimsy fashion ; and
scond, it was the tariff legislation that drove back a rising
Lde of socialism, both directly by vastly improving the
cndition of labour, and indirectly by force of the doctrine
i free exchange which was thus corroborated by circum-
tances. Of this we shall see more by and by.

Throughout the years of Sir Robert Peel's government,
felr. Gladstone had been keenly intent upon the progress of
•cligious affairs at Oxford. * From 1841 till the beginning of
L845,' he says in a fragmentary note, * I continued a hard-
cvorking official man, but with a decided predominance of
religious over secular interests. Although I had little of
direct connection with Oxford and its teachers, I was regarded
in common fame as tarred with their brush ; and I was not
so blind as to be unaware that for the clergy this meant not
yet indeed prosecution, but proscription and exclusion from
advancement by either party in the state, and for laymen a
vague and indeterminate prejudice with serious doubts how
far persons infected in this particular manner could have
any real capacity for affairs. Sir Robert Peel must, I think,
have exercised much self-denial when lie put me in his
cabinet in 1843.' The movement that began in 1833
had by the opening of the next decade revealed startling ten-
dencies, and its first stage was now slowly but unmistakeably
passing into the second. Mr. Gladstone has told us^ how
he stood at this hour of crisis ; how strongly he believed
that the church of England would hold her ground, and
even revive the allegiance not only of the masses, but of
those large and powerful nonconforming bodies who were
supposed to exist only as a consequence of the neglect of
its duties by the national church. He has told us also how
ittle he foresaw the second phase of the Oxford movement —
he break-up of a distinguished and imposing generation of
1 Chapter of Autobiography : Gleanings, vii. pp. 142-3.

806 THE TBACTARIAH CATA8TBOPHS

clergj ; Hhe spectacle of some of the most gifted sons reared
by Oxford for the service of the church of England, hurling
1841. ^^ ^^^ ^^^ ^^^ hottest bolts of the Vatican ; and along^
with this strange deflexion on one side, a not less convulsive
rationalist movement on the other, — all ending in contentio^x
and estrangement, and in suspicions worse than eithei^^
because less accessible and more intractable.'

The landmarks of the Tractarian story are familiar, and
I do not ask the reader in any detail to retrace them. The
publication of Froude's Remaitu was the first flagrant beacon
lighting the path of divergence from the lines of historical
high churchmen in an essentially anti-protestant direc-
tion. Mr. Gladstone read the first instalment of this book
(1888) * with repeated regrets.' Then came the blaze kindled
by Tract Ninety (1841). This, in the language of its author
and his friends, was the famous attempt to clear the Articles
from the glosses encrusting them like barnacles, and to
bring out the old catholic truth that man had done his
worst to disfigure and to mutilate, and yet in spite of all
man's endeavour it was in the Articles still. Mr. Gladstone,
as we have seen, regarded Tract Ninety with uneasy doubts
as to its drift, its intentions, the way in which the church
and the world would take it. * This No. Ninety of TrcLcUfw
the TimeB which I read by desire of Sir R. Inglis,' he writes
to Lord Lyttelton, 'is like a repetition of the publication
of Froude's Remains^ and Newman has again burned his
fingers. The most serious feature in the tract to my mind
is that, doubtless with very honest intentions and with his
mind turned for the moment so entirely towards those
inclined to defection, and therefore occupying their point
of view exclusively, he has in writing it placed himself quite
outside the church of England in point of spirit and sympathy.
As far as regards the proposition for which he intended
mainly to arg^e, I believe not only that he is right, but that
it is an a b c truth, almost a truism of the reign of Elizabeth,
namely that the authoritative documents of the church of
England were not meant to bind dU men to every opinion

TBACTABIAN LA]!n>MABK8 807

their authors, and particularly that they intended to deal
gently with prepossessions thought to look towards Rome,
the necessity of securing a certain amount of reformation
)uld allow. Certainly also the terms in which Newman
aracterises the present state of the church of England in
3 introduction are calculated to give both pain and alarm ;
d the whole aspect of the tract is like the assumption
a new position.'

Next followed the truly singular struggle for the
iversity chair of poetry at the end of the same year,
tween a no-popery candidate and a Puseyite. Seldom
rely has the service of the muses been pressed into so
en a debate. Mr. Gladstone was cut to the heart at the
ospect of a sentence in the shape of a vote for this
ofessorship, passed by the university of Oxford *upon

that congeries of opinions which the rude popular
tion associates with the Tracts for the Times.' Such a
itence would be a disavowal by the university of catho-
principles in the gross; the association between catholic
inciples and the church of England would be miserably
lakened ; and those who at all sympathised with the
•acts would be placed in the position of aliens, corporally
thin the pale, but in spirit estranged or outcast. If the
urch should be thus broken up, there would be no space
r catholicity between the rival pretensions of an ultra-
otestantised or decatholicised English church, and the
mmunion of Rome. ^ Miserable choice ! ' These and
ber arguments are strongly pressed (December 3, 1841)

favour of an amicable compromise, in a letter ad-
essed to his close friend Frederic Rogers. In the
ne letter Mr. Gladstone says that he cannot profess to
derstand or to have studied the Tracts on Reserve.^ He
artakes perhaps in the popular prejudice against them.'
lybody can now see in the coolness of distant time that
was these writings on Reserve that roused not merely
jadice but fury in the public mind — a fury that without

On Reseire in Communicating and in every sense un-English super-
gious Knowledge — Tracts 80 and scription. Ad Clenim, Isaac Will-
(1837-40). With the ominous iams was the author.

808 THB TBAGTABIAN GATASTBOPHB

either justice or logic extended from hatred of Roma
to members of the church of Rome itself. It affecte
1841. ^^^ worse the feeling between England and Ireland, i
those days to be ultra-protestant was to be anti-Irish
it greatly aggravated, first the storm about the May
grant in 1845, and then the far wilder storm about the
aggression six years later.

Further fuel for excitement was supplied the same
(1841) in a fantastic project by which a bishop, app(
alternately by Great Britain and Prussia and -with his
quarters at Jerusalem, was to take charge through a som<
miscellaneous region, of any German protestants or mei
of the church of England or anybody else who mig
disposed to accept his authority. The scheme stirred
enthusiasm in the religious world, but it deepened
among the more logical of the high churchmen. Ashle
the evangelicals were keen for it as the blessed beginni
a restoration of Israel, and the king of Prussia hoped tc
over the Lutherans and others of his subjects by this side
into true episcopacy. Politics were not absent, and
hoped that England might find in the new protestant cl
such an instrument in those uncomfortable regions, as £
possessed in the Greek church and France in the I
Dr. Arnold was delighted at the thought that the new cl
at Jerusalem would comprehend persons using difl
liturgies and subscribing different articles, — his favc
pattern for the church of England. Pusey at first i
liked the idea of a bishop to represent the ancient B
church in the city of the Holy Sepulchre ; but Newmai
Hope, with a keener instinct for their position, distruste
whole design in root and branch as a betrayal of the ch
and Pusey soon came to their mind. With caustic
Newman asked how the anglican church, without ce
to be a church, could become an associate and proteci
nestorians, Jacobites, monophysites, and all the heretic
could hear of, and even form a sort of league witl
mussulman against the Greek orthodox and the
catholics. Mr. Gladstone could not be drawn to go
lengths. Nobody could be more of a logician than

THB JEKUSALEM BISHOPRIC 809

Gladstone when he liked, no logician could wield a more CHAP.
trenchant blade ; but nobody ever knew better in complex ^ ,

circumstance the perils of the logical short cut. Hence, ,^3Bt.82.
according to his general manner in all dubious cases, he
moved slowly, and laboured to remove practical grounds
for objection. Ashley describes him (October 16) at a dinner
at Bunsen's rejoicing in the bishopric, and proposing the
health of the new prelate, and this gave Ashley pleasure,
for ' Gladstone is a good man and a clever man and an in-
dustrious man.'^ While resolute against any plan for what
Hope called gathering up the scraps of Christendom and
making a new church out of them, and resolute against
what he himself called the inauguration of an experimental
or fancy church, Mr. Gladstone declared himself ready ' to
brave misconstruction for the sake of union with any Christian
men, provided the terms of union were not contrary to sound
principles.' With a strenuous patience that was thoroughly
characteristic, he set to work to bring the details of the
scheme into an order conformable to his own views, and he
even became a trustee of the endowment fund. Two bishops
in succession filled the see, but in the fulness of time most
men agreed with Newman, who ' never heard of any either
good or harm that bishopric had ever done,' except what it
had done for him. To him it gave a final shake, and brought
him on to the beginning of the end.^

In the summer of 1842 Mr. Gladstone received confidences
that amazed him. Here is a passage from his diary : —

July 31, 1842. — Walk with E. Williams to converse on the
subject of our recent letters. I made it my object to learn from
him the general view of the ulterior section of the Oxford writers
and their friends. It is startling. They look not merely to the
renewal and development of the catholic idea within the pale of
the church of England, but seem to consider the main condition
of that development and of all health (some tending even to say

^ lAfe of Shaftesbury fi.p.SII, There the admirer of both.' But not more

» a letter from Bunsen (p. 373), in wonderful than Bunsen forgetting that

which he exclaims how wonderful it is Frederick had no children,
'that the great-grandson of Anthony ^ Sg^ Memoirs of J. R. Hope-ScoUy

M of Shaftesbury, the friend of i. chapters 15-17. Apologia, chapter

Voltaire, should write thus to the 3, ad Jin.
great-grandson of Frederick the Great,

310 THE TBACTABIAK CATASTROPHE

of all life) to be reunion with the church of Rome as th
Peter. They recognise, however, authority in the church
2^g^ land, and abide in her without love specifically fixed upor
seek the fulfilment of this work of reunion. It is, for exai
said, the sole object of Oakeley's life. They do not look
defined order of proceedings in the way of means. They <
that the end is to be reached through catholicising the i
the members of the church of England, but do not seen
that this can be done to any great degree in working <
giving free scope to her own rubrical system. They 1
strong feeling of revulsion from actual evils in the ch
Eome, first, because they do not wish to judge ; secondly, es
not to judge the saints ; thirdly, they consider that infa
is somewhere and nowhere but there. They could not re
the church of England if they thought that she dogmatics
demned anything that the church of Rome has defined de^
they do and will remain on the basis of the argument of T
upon which, after mental conflict, they have settled steadil
They regret what Newman has said strongly against th<
system of the church of Rome, and they could not have s
though neither do they positively deny it. Wherever
doctrine defide is oppugned they must protest; but short
they render absolute obedience to their ecclesiastical 8up«
the church of England. They expect to work on in \
harmony with those who look mainly to the restoration of
ideas on the foundation laid by the church of England as re
and who take a different view as to reunion with Rome
ticular, though of course desiring the reunion of the wh(
of Christ. All this is matter for very serious considerati
the meantime I was anxious to put it down while fresh.

Now was the time at which Mr. Gladstone's relatio
Manning and Hope began to approach their closest. N<
the great enchanter, in obedience to his bishop had d
the issue of the Tracts ; had withdrawn from all put
cussion of ecclesiastical politics ; had given up his ^
Oxford ; and had retired with a neophyte or two to
more, a hamlet on the outskirts of the ever venerab
there to pursue his theological studies, to prepare tram

POSITION OF NEWMAN 811

>f Athanasius, to attend to his little parish, and generally to CHAP.
50 about his own business so far as he might be permitted ^ ' j
b}' the restlessness alike of unprovoked opponents and un- j^ ^
sought disciples. This was the autumn of 1843. In October
Manning sent to Mr. Gladstone two letters that he had re-
ceived from Newman, indicating only too plainly, as they
were both convinced, tliat the foundations of their leader's
anglicanism had been totally undermined by the sweeping
repudiation alike by episcopal and university authority of the
doctrines of Tract Ninety. Dr. Pusey, on the other hand,
admitted that the expressions in Newman's letter were
portentous, but did not believe that they necessarily meant
secession. In a man of the world this would not have been
regarded as candid. For Newman says, 'I formally told
Pusey that I expected to leave the church of England in the
autumn of 1843, and begged him to tell others, that no one
might be taken by surprise or might trust me in the in-
terval.' ^ But Newman has told us that he had from the first
great difficulty in making Dr. Pusey understand the differ-
ences between them. The letters stand in the Apologia
(chapter iv. § 2) to tell their own tale. To Mr. Gladstone their
shock was extreme, not only by reason of the catastrophe to
^'hich they pointed, but from the ill-omened shadow that
they threw upon the writer's probity of mind if not of heart.
*I stagger to and fro like a drunken man,' he wrote to
Manning, 'I am at my wit's end.' He found some of New-
inan's language, ' forgive me if I say it, more like the expres-
sions of some Faust gambling for his soul, than the records
of the inner life of a great Christian teacher.' In his diary,
he puts it thus : —

Oct. 28, 1843. — S. Simon and S. Jude. St. James's 11 a.m. with

a heavy heart. Another letter had come from Manning, enclosing

a second from Newman, which announced that since the summer

of 1839 he had had the conviction that the church of Rome is the

catholic church, and ours not a branch of the catholic church

i^cause not in communion with Rome ; that he had resigned St.

Mary's because he felt he could not with a safe conscience longer

1 Story of Dr. Pusey' s Life, p. 227.

812 THE TBJLCTABIAS CATA8TBOPHB

teach in her; that b^ the article in the British CriUc on th<
catholicity of the English church he had quieted his mind for twc
1843. years ; that in his letter to the Bishop of Oxford, written mosi
reluctantly, he, as the best course under the circumstances, com
mitted himself again; that his alarms reviyed with that WTetche<]
affair of the Jerusalem bishopric, and had increased ever since :
that Manning's interference had only made him the more realise
his views ; that Manning might make what use he pleased of his
letters ; he was relieved of a heavy heart ; yet he trusted that Grod
would keep him from hasty steps and resolves with a doubting
conscience ! How are the mighty fallen and the weapons of wai
perished!

With the characteristic spirit with which, in politics and
in every other field, he always insisted on espying patches ol
blue sky where others saw unbroken cloud, he was amazec
that Newman did not, in spite of all the pranks of th,
Oxford heads, perceive the English church to be growing i .
her members more catholic from year to year, and how muc*
more plain and undeniable was the sway of catholic pri^
ciples within its bounds, since the time when he entertain^
no shadow of doubt about it. But while repeating t:
opinion that in many of the Tracts the language about tfi
Roman church had often been far too censorious, Mr. Glad-
stone does not, nor did he ever, shrink from designating
conversion to that church by the unflinching names of lapse
and fall.^ As he was soon to put it, * The temptation towards
the church of Rome of which some are conscious, has never
been before my mind in any other sense than as other plain
and flagrant sins have been before it.'^

Two days later he wrote to Manning again : —

Oct. 30, 1843. — ... I have still to say that my impressions,
though without more opportunity of testing them I cannot regard
them as final, are still and strongly to the effect that upon the pro
mulgation of those two letters to the world, Newman stands in the
general view a disgraced man — and all men, all principles, with
which he has had to do, disgraced in proportion to the proximity

1 This letter of October 28 is in > Mr. Gladstone to Dr. Hook, Jan
Purcell, Manning, i. p. 242. 30, '47.

ward's ideal 813

of their connection. And further I am persuaded that were he CHAP,
not spellbound and entranced, he could not fail to see the gross y * ^
moral incoherence of the parts of his two statements; and that ^^ 34^
were I upon the terms which would warrant it, I should feel it
my duty, at a time when as now, summa res agitur, to tell him so,
after having, however, tried my own views by reference to some
other mind, for instance to your own. But surely it will he said
that his ' committing himself again ' was simply a deliberate pro-
testation of what he knew to be untrue. I have no doubt of his
hanng proceeded honestly ; no doubt that he can show it ; but I say
that those two letters are quite enough to condemn a man in whom
one has no iram? rjOucii : much more then one whom a great major-
ity of the community regard with prejudice and deep suspicion.
. . . With regard to your own feelings believe me that I enter
into them ; and indeed our communications have now for many
jears been too warm, free, and confiding to make it necessary for
me, as I trust, to say what a resource and privilege it is to me to
take counsel with you upon those absorbing subjects and upon the
fortunes of the church ; to which I desire to feel with you that
life, strength, and all means and faculties, ought freely to be
demoted, and indeed from such devotion alone can they derive
un jthing of true value. *

The next blow was struck in the summer of 1844 by
Ward's Ideal of a Christian Churchy which had the remark-
&l>le effect of harassing and afflicting all the three high
e^mps — the historical anglicans, the Puseyites and moderate
tir^actarians, and finally the Newmanites and moderate
Itomanisers.* The writer was one of the most powerful
dialecticians of the day, defiant, aggressive, implacable in
Ixis logic, unflinching in any stand that he chose to take;
tlxe master-representative of tactics and a temper like
t.li.06e to which Laud and Strafford gave the pungent name
o€ Thorough. It was not its theology, still less its history,

' It was on the fifth of November, * For a full account of this book

^ week after this correspondence, and its consequences the reader will

that Manning preached the Guy always consult chapters xi., xii., and

fawkes sermon which caused Newman ziii., of Mr. Wilfrid Ward's admi-

to send J. A. Froude to the door to rably written work, William George

tell Manning that he was * not at Ward and the Oxford Movement,
home.' — Porcell, L pp. 246-0.

314 THE TBACTABIAK CATAST&OPHB

that made his book the signal for the explosion; it \izs
his audacious proclamation that the whole cycle of Roman
1846. doctrine was gradually possessing numbers of English
churchmen, and that he himself, a clergyman in orders
and holding his fellowship on the tenure of church sub-
scription, had in so subscribing to the Articles renoimced
no single Roman doctrine. This, and not the six hundred
pages of argumentation, was the ringing challenge that pro-
voked a plain issue, precipitated a decisive struggle, and
brought the first stage of tractarianism to a close.

It was impossible that Mr. Gladstone even in the thick
of his tariffs, his committees and deputations, his cabinet
duties, and all the other absorbing occupations of an im-
portant minister in strong harness, should let a publication,
in his view so injurious, pass in silence.^ With indignation
he flew to his intrepid pen, and dealt as trenchantly with
Ward as Ward himself had dealt trenchantly with the
reformers and all others whom he found planted in his
dialectic way. Mr. Gladstone held the book up to stringent
reproof for its capricious injustice; for the triviality of its
investigations of fact; for the savageness of its censures*,
for the wild and wanton opinions broached in its pages ; for
the infatuation of mind manifested in some of its arguments ^
and for the lamentable circumstance that it exhibited ^
far greater debt in mental culture to Mr. John Stuax't
Mill than to the whole range of Christian divines. In ^
sentence, Ward ' had launched on the great deep of hum3''^
controversy as frail a bark as ever carried sail,' and hi^
reviewer undoubtedly let loose upon it as shrewd a bla-^^
as ever blew from the ^olian wallet. The article w^
meant for the Quarterly Review^ and it is easy to imagiu^
the dire perplexities of Lockhart's editorial mind in tim^^
so fervid and so distracted. The practical issue after all was
not the merits or the demerits of Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer,
nor the real meaning of Hooker, Jewel, Bull, but simply
what was to be done to Ward. Lockhart wrote to Murray

^ It was in the midst of these liturgy. An edition of two thousand

laborious employments that Mr. Glad- copies went off at once, and was fol*

stone published a prayer-book, com- lowed by many editions more,
piled for family use, from the anglican

ABTICLE ON WABD 315

that he had very seriously studied the article and studied
Ward's book, and not only these, but also the Articles and
the canons of the church, and he could not approve of the jBx'sg.
Review committing itself to a judgment on the line proper
to be taken by the authorities of church and university,
and the expression of such a judgment he suspected to be
Mr. Gladstone's main object in writing. Mr. Gladstone,
describing himself most truly as * one of those soldiers who
do not know when they are beat,' saw his editor ; declared
that what he sought was three things, first, that the process
of mobbing out by invective and private interpretations
is bad and should be stopped ; second, that the church of
England does not make assent to the proceedings of the
Reformation a term of communion ; and third, that before
even judicial proceedings in one direction, due consideration
should be had of what judicial proceedings in another direc-
tion consistency might entail, if that game were once begun.
As Ward himself had virtually put it, * Show me how any
of the recognised parties in the church can subscribe in
a natural sense, before you condemn me for subscribing
in a non-natural.' ^ The end was a concordat between editor
and contributor, followed by an immense amount of irksome
revision, mutilation, and re-revision, reducing the argument
m some places ' almost to tatters ' ; but the writer was in
the long run satisfied that things were left standing in it
which it was well to plant in a periodical like the Quarterly
Review,

We have a glimpse of the passionate agitation into which
this great controversy, partly theologic, partly moral, threw
Mr. Gladstone : —

Feb, 6. — Breakfast at Mr. Macaulay's. Conversation chiefly
on Aristotle's politics and on the Oxford proceedings. I grew hot,
for which ignoscat Deus. Feb, 13. — Oxford 1-5. We were in the
theatre. Ward was like himself, honest to a fault, as little like
an advocate in his line of argument as well could be, and strained
his theology even a point further than before. The forms are
venerable, the sight imposing ; the act is fearful [the degradation
of Ward], if it did not leave strong hope of its revisal by law.
1 William George Ward, p. 332.

316 THB TBACTABIAN CATASTBOPHS

To Dr. Pugey he writes (Feb. 7) : —

Indignation at this proposal to treat Mr. Newman worse than a
1846. dog really makes me mistrust my judgment, as I suppose one
should always do when any proposal seeming to present an aspect
of incredible wickedness is advanced. Feb. 17. — I concur with
my whole heart and soul in the desire for repose ; and I fully
believe that the gift of an interval of reflection is that which would
be of all gifts the most precious to us all, which would restore the
faculty of deliberation now almost lost in storms, and would afford
the best hope both of the development of the soundest elements
that are in motion amongst us, and of the mitigation or absorption
of those which are more dangerous.

In the proceedings at Oxford against Ward (February 13,
1846), Mr. Gladstone voted in the minority both against the
condemnation of the book, and against the proposal to strip
its writer of his university degree. He held that the censure
combined condemnation of opinions with a declaration of
personal dishonesty, and the latter question he held to be
one ^not fit for the adjudication of a human tribunal.'

All this has a marked place in Mr. Gladstone's mental
progress. Though primarily and ostensibly the concern of
the established church, yet the series of proceedings that had
begun with the attack on Hampden in 1836, and then were
followed down to our own day by academical, ecclesiastical
and legal censures and penalties, or attempts at censure
and penalty, on Newman, Pusey, Maurice, Gorham, Ussays
and Reviews^ Colenso, and ended, if they have yet ended,
in a host of judgments affecting minor pei:Bonages almost
as good as nameless — all constitute a chapter of extra-
ordinary importance in the general history of English
toleration, extending in its consequences far beyond the
pale of the communion immediately concerned. It wa^^^
a long and painful journey, often unedifying, not seldoii^^
squalid, with crooked turns not a few, and before i-^^
was over, casting men into strange companionship upo^^^i
bleak and hazardous shores. Mr. Gladstone, though I^^ ^
probably was not one of those who are as if born t^y
nature tolerant, was soon drawn by circumstance to loci^t

Newman's secbssiok 817

with favour upon that particular sort of toleration which chap.
arose out of the need for comprehension. When the six y ' ^
doctors condemned Pusey (June 1848) for preaching heresy jbt.86.
and punished him by suspension, Mr. Gladstone was one
of those who signed a vigorous protest against a verdict
and a sentence passed upon an offender without hearing
him and without stating reasons. This was at least the
good beginning of an education in liberal rudiments.

ni
In October 1846 the earthquake came. Newman was
received into the Roman communion. Of this step Mr.
Gladstone said that it has never yet been estimated at
anything like the full amount of its calamitous importance.
The leader who had wielded a magician's power in Oxford was
followed by a host of other converts. More than once I have
heard Mr. Gladstone tell the story how about this time he
sought from Manning an answer to the question that sorely
perplexed him : what was the common bond of union that
led men of intellect so different, of character so opposite,
of such various circumstance, to come to the same con-
clusion. Manning's answer was slow and deliberate : ^Their
cammon bond is their want of truth,'' *I was surprised
beyond measure,' Mr. Gladstone would proceed, 'and startled
at his judgment.'^

Most ordinary churchmen remained where they were.
An erastian statesman of our own time, when alarmists
ran to him with the news that a couple of noblemen and
their wives had just gone over to Rome, replied with calm,
*Show me a couple of grocers and their wives who have
gone over, then you will frighten me.' The great body lof
church people stood firm, and so did Pusey, Keble, Gladstone,
and 80 too, for half a dozen years to come, did his two closest
friends, Manning and Hope. The dominant note in Mr. Glad-
stone's mind was clear and it was constant. As he put it to
Manning (August 1, 1845), — 'That one should entertain love
for the church of Rome in respect of her virtues and her
glories, is of course right and obligatory ; but one is equally
1 The story is told in Purcell, Manning, i. p. 818.

318 THE TKACTABIAN CATAST&OPHB

bound under the circumstances of the English church in
direct antagonism with Rome to keep clearly in view their
1846. ^®^ fearful opposites.'

Tidings of the great secession happened to find Mr. Glad-
stone in a rather singular atmosphere. In the course of 1842,
to the keen distress of her relatives, his sister had joined the
Roman church, and her somewhat peculiar nature led to
difficulties that taxed patience and resource to the utter-
most. She had feelings of warm attachment to her brother,
and spoke strongly in that sense to Dr. Wiseman ; and it
was for the purpose of carrying out some plans of his
father's for her advantage, that in the autumn of 1845
(September 24-November 18), Mr. Gladstone passed nearly
a couple of months in Germany. The duty was heavy
and dismal, but the journey brought him into a society
that could not be without effect upon his impressionable
mind. At Munich he laid the foundation of one of the
most interesting and cherished friendships of his life. Hope-
Scott had already made the acquaintance of Dr. Dollinger,
and he now begged Mr. Gladstone on no account to fail to
present himself to him, as well as to other learned and
political men, *good catholics and good men with no ordinary
talent and information.' * Nothing,' Mr. Gladstone once wrote
in after years, 'ever so much made me anglican versits Roman
as reading in Dollinger over forty years ago the history of the
fourth century and Athanasius contra mundumJ* Here is
his story to his wife : —

Munich, Sept. 30, 1845. — Yesterday evening after dinner with
two travelling companions, an Italian negoziante and a Grerman, I
must needs go and have a shilling's worth of the Augsburg Opera,
where we heard Mozart (Don Juan) weU played and very respect-
ably simg. To^ay I have spent my evening differently, in tea ^
and infinite conversation with Dr. Dollinger, who is one of the^
first among the Roman catholic theologians of Germany, a remark — __
able and a very pleasing man. His manners have great simplic--:^
ity and I am astonished at the way in which a busy student sucl^B
as he is can receive an intruder. His appearance is, singular t-,.:;^
say, just compounded of those of two men who are among

DB. DOLLINOEB 819

most striking in appearance of our clergy, Newman and Dr. Mill.
He surprises me by the extent of his information and the way in
which he knows the details of what takes place in England. Most jEer. 86.
of oar conversation related to it. He seemed to me one of the
most liberal and catholic in mind of all the persons of his commun-
ion whom I have known. To-morrow I am to have tea with him
again, and there is to be a third, Dr. Grorres, who is a man of
eminence among them. Do not think he has designs upon me.
Indeed he disarms my suspicions in that respect by what appears
to me a great sincerity. . . .

Oct. 2. — On Tuesday after post I began to look about me ; and
though I have not seen all the sights of Munich I have certainly
seen a great deal that is interesting in the way of art, and having
spent a good deal of time in Dr. DttUinger's company, last night
till one o'clock, I have lost my heart to him. What I like perhaps
most, or what crowns other causes of liking towards him, is that
he, like Rio, seems to take hearty interest in the progress of reli-
gion in the church of England, apart from the (so to speak) party
question between us, and to have a mind to appreciate good wher-
e?er he can find it. For instance, when in speaking of Wesley I
said that his own views and intuitions were not heretical, and that
if the ruling power in our church had had energy and a right
mind to turn him to account, or if he had been in the church of
Rome I was about to add, he would then have been a great saint,
or something to that effect. But I hesitated, thinking it perhaps
too strong, and even presumptuous, but he took me up and used
tbe very words, declaring that to be his opinion. Again, speaking
of Archbishop Leighton he expressed great admiration of his piety,
axid said it was so striking that he could not have been a real
Calrinist He is a great admirer of England and English charac-
ter, and he does not at all dur over the mischief with which
i^ligion has to contend in Germany. Lastly, I may be wrong, but
I am persuaded he in his mind abhors a great deal that is too fre-
quently taught in the church of Rome. Last night he spoke
with such a sentiment of the doctrine that was taught on the
subject of indulgences which moved Luther to resist them ; and
he said he believed it was true that the preachers represented to
tlie people that by money payments they could procure the release

320 THB TBACTABIAN CATA8TBOPHB

of souls from purgatory. I told him that was exactly the doctrine
I had heard preached in Messina, and he said a priest preaching
1846. ^^ ^ Germany would be suspended by his bishop.

Last night he invited several of his friends whom I wanted to
meet, to an entertainment which consisted first of weak tea,
immediately followed by meat supper with beer and wine and
sweets. For two hours was I there in the midst of five German
professors, or four, and the editor of a paper, who held very inter-
esting discussions ; I could only follow them in part, and enter
into them still less, as none of them (except Dr. D.) seemed to
speak any tongue but their own with any freedom, but you would
have been amused to see and hear them, and me in the midst I
never saw men who spoke together in a way to make one another
inaudible as they did, always excepting Dr. Dollinger, who sat
like Eogers, being as he is a much more refined man than the
rest. But of the others I assure you always two, sometimes three,
and once all four, were speaking at once, very loud, each not trying
to force the attention of the others, but to be following the cur-
rent of his own thoughts. One of them was Dr. Gorres,* who in
the time of Kapoleon edited a journal that had a great effect in
rousing Germany to arms. Unfortimately he spoke more thickly
than any of them.^

At Baden-Baden (October 16) he made the acquaintance
of Mrs. Craven, the wife of the secretary of the Stuttgart
mission, and authoress of the BScit cTune Saeur. Some
of the personages of that alluring book were of the company.
*I have drunk tea several times at her house, and have
had two or three long conversations with them on matters
of religion. They are excessively acute and also full of
Christian sentiment. But they are much more diflBcult to
make real way with than a professor of theology, because
they are determined (what is vulgarly called) to go the
whole hog, just as in England usually when you find a

1 Joseph G5rres, one of the most call the newspaper a fifth great power,

famous of European publicists and In times G5rres became a vehement

gjazetteers between the two revolu- ultramontane.

tionary epochs of 1789 and 1848. « See Friedrich's Life of Ddllinger^

His journal was the Bhine Mercury, ii. pp. 222-226, for a letter from Dol-

where the doctrine of a free and linger to Mr. Gladstone after his visit,

united Germany was preached (1814- dated Nov. 15, 1846.
16) with a force that made Napoleon

FIJBTHEB ADVANCE 821

woman anti-popish in spirit, she will push the argument CHAP,
against them to all extremes.' \-^Lj

It was at the same time that he read Bunsen's book on ^^^ ^
the church. ^It is dismal/ he wrote home to Mrs. Glad-
stone, ^ and I must write to him to say so as kindly as I
can.' Bunsen would seem all the more dismal from the
contrast with the spiritual graces of these catholic ladies,
and the ripe thinking and massive learning of one who was
still the great catholic doctor. At no time in Mr. Glad-
stone's letters to Manning or to Hope is there a single
faltering accent in respect of Rome. The question is not for
an instant, or in any of his moods, open. He never doubts
nor wavers. None the less, these impressions of his German
journey would rather confirm than weaken his theological
faith within the boundaries of anglican form and institution.
^With my whole soul I am convinced,' he says to Manning
(June 23, 1850), Hhat if the Roman system is incapable
of being powerfully modified in spirit, it never can be the
instrument of the work of God among us ; the faults and
the virtues of England are alike against it.'

I need spend no time in pointing out how inevitably

these new currents drew Mr. Gladstone away from the

old moorings of his first book. Even in 1844 he had

parted company with the high ecclesiastical principles of

good tories like Sir Robert Inglis. Peel, to his great honour,

in that year brought in what Macaulay truly called 'an

honest, an excellent bill, introduced from none but the best

and purest motives.' It arose from a judicial decision in

what was known as the Lady Hewley case, and its object was

nothing more revolutionary or latitudinarian than to apply

(0 unitarian chapels the same principle of prescription that

protected gentlemen in the peaceful enjoyment of their

estates and their manor-houses. The equity of the thing

B'as obvious. In 1779 parliament had relieved protestant

dissenting ministers from the necessity of declaring their

belief in certain church articles, including especially those

affecting the doctrine of the Trinity. In 1813 parliament

had repealed the act of William iii. that made it blasphemy

to deny that doctrine. This legislation rendered unitarian

TOL. I — T

822 THB TBAGTABXAH CATASTROPHE

foundations legal, and the bill extended to unitarian con-
gregations the same prescriptions as covered the titles of
18i4. other voluntary bodies to their places of worship, their
school-houses, and their burial-grounds. But what was thus
a question of property was treated as if it were a question of
divinity; ' bigotry sought aid from chicane,' and a tremendous
clamour was raised by anglicans, wesleyans, presbyterians,
not because they had an inch of locus standi in the business,
but because unitarianism was scandalous heresy and sin.
Follett made a masterly lawyer's speech, Sheil the speech of
a glittering orator, guarding unitarians by the arguments
that had (or perhaps I should say had not) guarded Irish
catholics. Peel and Gladstone made political speeches lofty
and sound, and Macaulay the speech of an eloquent scholar
and a reasoner, manfully enforcing principles both of
law and justice with a luxuriance of illustration all his
own, from jurists of imperial Rome, sages of old Greece,
Hindoos, Peruvians, Mexicans, and tribunals beyond the
Mississippi.^ We do not often enjoy such parliamentary
nights in our time.

Mr. Gladstone supported the proposal on the broadest
grounds of unrestricted private judgment : —

I went into the subject laboriously, he says, and satisfied
myself that this was not to be viewed as a mere quieting of titles
based on lapse of time, but that the unitarians were the true
lawful holders, because though they did not agree with the
puritan opinions they adhered firmly to the puritan principlfij
which was that scripture was the rule without any binding inter-
pretation, and that each man, or body, or generation must inter-
pret for himself. This measure in some ways heightened my
churchmanship, but depressed my church-and-statesmanship.

Far from feeling that there was any contrariety between his
principles of religious belief and those on which legislation
in their case ought to proceed, he said that the only use he
could make of these principles was to apply them to the
decisive performance of a great and important act, foimded
on the everlasting principles of truth and justice. Sheil,
^ Saruard, June 6, 1844.

THB LADY HSWLBY 0A8B 823

^ho followed Mr. Gladstone, made a decidedly striking
bseryation. He declared how delighted he was to hear from
uch high authority that the bill was perfectly reconcilable j^]sb.
vith the strictest and the sternest principles of state
^nscience. ^ I cannot doubt,' he continued, *' that the right
tion. gentleman, the champion of free trade, will ere long
become the advocate of the most unrestricted liberty of
thought.' Time was to justify Sheil's acute prediction.
Unquestionably the line of argument that suggested it was
a great advance from the arguments of 1838, of which
Macaulay had said that they would warrant the roasting
of dissenters at slow fires.

IV

In this vast field of human interest what engaged and
inflamed him was not in the main place that solicitude for
personal salvation and sanctification, which under sharp
stress of argument, of pious sensibility, of spiritual panic,
now sent so many flocking into the Roman fold. It was at
bottom more like the passion of the great popes and ecclesi-
astical master-builders, for strengthening and extending the
institutions by which faith is spread, its lamps trimmed
afresh, its purity secured.- What wrung him with affliction
was the laying waste of the heritage of the Lord. *The
promise,' he cried, * indeed stands sure to the church and
the elect. In the farthest distance there is peace, truth,
glory ; but what a lecp to it, over what a gulf.' For himself,
the old dilemma of his early years still tormented him. * I
wish,' he writes to Manning (March 8, 1846) good humouredly,
*I could get a sjmodical decision in favour of my retirement
from public life. For, I profess to remain there (to myself)
for the service of the church, and my views of the mode of
serving her are getting so fearfully wide of those generally
cnrrent, that even if they be sound, they may become wholly
unavailable.' The question whether the service of the
Aurch can be most effectually performed in parliament was
Dcessantly present to his mind. Manning pressed him in
ne direction, the inward voice drew him in the other. * I
ould write down in a few lines,' he says to Manning, * the

824 THB TBACTABIAN CATASTROPHE

measures, after the adoption of which I should be prepared

to say to a young man entering life, If you wish to serve the

1846. church do it in the sanctuary, and not in parliament (unless

he were otherwise determined by his station, and not always

then ; it must depend upon his inward vocation), and should

not think it at all absurd to say the same thing to some

who have already placed themselves in this latter sphere.

For when the end is attained of letting " the church help

herself,'* and when it is recognised that active help can no

longer be given, the function of serving the church in the

state, such as it was according to the old idea, dies of itself,

and what remains of duty is of a character essentially

different.' Then a pregnant passage : — ^It is the essential

change now in progress from the catholic to the infidel idea

of the state which is the determining element in my estimate

of this matter, and which has, I think, no place in yours.

For I hold and believe that when that transition has once

been effected, the state never can come back to the catholic

idea by means of any agency from within itself : that, if at

all, it must be by a sort of re-conversion from without. I am

not of those (excellent as I think them) who say. Remain and

bear witness for the truth. There is a place where witness

is ever to be borne for truth, that is to say for full and abso- .

lute truth, but it is not there.' ^

He reproaches himself with being 'actively eng^aged in
carrying on a process of lowering the religious tone of the
state, letting it down, demoralising it, and assisting in its
transition into one which is mechanical.' The objects that
warrant public life in one in whose case executive govern-
ment must be an element, must be very special. True that
in all probability the church will hold her nationality in
substance beyond our day. ' I think she will hold it as long
as the monarchy subsists.' So long the church will need
parliamentary defence, but in what form ? The dissenters
had no members for universities, and yet their real represen-
tation was far better organised in proportion to its weight
than the church, though formally not organised at all.
* Strength with the people will for our day at least be the
1 To Manning, April 5, 1846.

HOPES FOB THE CHURCH 325

only effectual defence of the church in the House of Com-
mons, as the want of it is now our weakness there. It is not
everything that calls itself a defence that is really such.' ^ jBti. 87.

Manning expressed a strong fear, amounting almost %o a
belief, that the church of England must split asunder.
* Nothing can be firmer in my mind,' Mr. Gladstone replied
(Aug. 31, 1846), Hhan the opposite idea. She will live through
her struggles, she has a great providential destiny before her.
Recollect that for a century and a half, a much longer period
than any for which puritan and catholic principles have been
in conflict within the church of England, Jansenist and
anti-Jansenist dwelt within the church of Rome with the
unity of wolf and lamb. Their differences were not absorbed
by the force of the church ; they were in full vigour when the
Revolution burst upon both. Then the breach between
nation and church became so wide as to make the rivalries
of the^two church sections insignificant, and so to cause
their fusion.' Later, he thinks that he finds a truer analogy
between Hhe superstition and idolatry that gnaws and
corrodes ' the life of the Roman church, and the puritanism
that with at least as much countenance from authority abides
in the English church. There are two systems, he says, in the
English church vitally opposed to one another, and if they
were equally developed they could not subsist together in
the same sphere. If puritanical doctrines were the base of
episcopal and collegiate teaching, then the church must
either split or become heretical. As it is, the basis is on the
whole anti-puritanic, and what we should call catholic. The
conflict may go on as now, and with a progressive advance
of the good principle against the bad one. ' That has been
on the whole the course of things during our lifetime, and to
judge from present signs it is the will of God that it should
so continue.' (Dec. 7, 1846.)

The following to Mr. Phillimore sums up the case as he
then believed it to stand (June 24, 1847) : —

. . . The church is now in a condition in which her children
may and must desire that she should keep her national position

1 To Manning:, April 10, 1846.

826 THB TBAOTARIAN CATASTSOPHB

and her civil and proprietary rights, and that she should by
degrees obtain the means of extending and of strengthening her-
1846. ^^^f ^^^ ^^7 ^y coyering a greater space, but by a more yigorous
organisation. Her attaining to this state of higher health depends
in no small degree upon progressive adaptations of her state and
her laws to her ever enlarging exigencies ; these depend upon the
humour of the state, and the state cannot and will not be in good
humour with her, if she insists upon its being in bad humour with
all other communions.

It seems to me, therefore, that while in substance we should all
strive to sustain her in her national position, we shall do well on
her behalf to follow these rules : to part earlier, and more f reelj
and cordially, than heretofore with such of her privileges, here and
there, as may be more obnoxious than really valuable, and some
such she has ; and further, not to presume too much to gire
directions to the state as to its policy with respect to other
religious bodies. . . . This is not political expediency as ^posed
to religious principle. Nothing did so much damage to religion
as the obstinate adherence to a negative, repressive, and ooerciTe
course. For a century and more from the Revolution it brought
us nothing but outwardly animosities and inwardly lethargy.
The revival of a livelier sense of duty and of Grod is now begin-
ning to tell in the altered policy of the church. ... As her
sense of her spiritual work rises, she is becoming less eager to
assert her exclusive claim, leaving that to the state as a matter
for itself to decide ; and she also begins to forego more readiljr
but cautiously, her external prerogatives.

Booft Mi

1847^1862
CHAPTER I

BiBMBEB FOB OXFORD

Thbrs is not a featoie or a point in the national character which
has made England great among the nations of the world, that is
not strongly developed and plainly traceable in oar uniyersities.
For eight hundred or a thousand years they have been intimately
associated with everything that has concerned the highest interests
of the country. — Gladstone.

In 1847 the fortunes of a general election brought Mr.
Gladstone into relations that for many years to come deeply
affected his political course. As a planet's orbit has puzzled ^^' 3g
astronomers until they discover the secret of its irregularities
ixi the attraction of an unseen and unsuspected neighbour
in the firmament, so some devious motions of this great
luminary of ours were perturbations due in fact to the in-
fluence of his new constituency. As we have seen, Mr.
Gladstone quitted Newark when he entered the cabinet to
repeal the corn law. At the end of 1846, writing to Lord
Ljttelton from Fasque, he tells him : ' I wish to be in par-
liament but coldly; feeling at the same time that I ought
to wish it warmly on many grounds. But my father is so
very keen in his protective opinions, and I am so very
decidedly of the other way of thinking, that I look forward
with some reluctance and regret to what must, when it
happens, place me in marked and public contrast with him.'
^h^ thing soon happened.

327

328 MBMBEB FOB OXFORD

BOOK I remained, he says, without a seat until the dissolution in

III
V ' J June 1847. But several months before this occurred it had become

2g47, known that Mr. Estcourt would vacate his seat for Oxford, and I

became a candidate. It was a serious campaign. The constituency,

much to its honour, did not stoop to fight the battle on the ground

of protection. But it was fought, and that fiercely, on religious

grounds. There was an incessant discussion, and I may say

dissection, of my character and position in reference to the Oxford

movement. This cut very deep, for it was a discussion which each

member of the constituency was entitled to carry on for himself.

The upshot was favourable. The liberals supported me gallantly,

80 did many zealous churchmen, apart from politics, and a good

number of moderate men, so that I was returned by a fair

majority. I held the seat for eighteen years, but with five

contests and a final defeat.

The other sitting member after the retirement of Mr.
Estcourt was Sir Robert Harry Inglis, who had beaten Peel
by a very narrow majority in the memorable contest for the
university seat on the final crisis of the catholic question in
1829. He was blessed with a genial character and an open
and happy demeanour; and the fact that he was equipped
with a full store of sincere and inexorable prejudices made
it easy for him to be the most upright, honourable, kindly,
and consistent of political men. Repeal of the Test acts, relief
of the catholics, the Reform bill, relief of the Jews, reform
of the Irish church, the grant to Maynooth, the repeal of
the corn laws — one after another he had stoutly resisted the
whole catalogue of revolutionising change. So manful a
record made his seat safe. In the struggle for the second
seat, Mr. Gladstone's friends encountered first Mr. Cardwell,
a colleague of his as secretary of the treasury in the late
government. Cardwell was deep in the confidence and
regard of Sir Robert Peel, and he earned in after years th&
reputation of an honest and most capable administrator ^
but in these earlier days the ill-natured called him Peel-and —
water, others labelled him latitudinarian and indifferent.-,
and though he had the support of Peel, promised before Mr* ^
Gladstone's name as candidate was announced, he thouglM. ^

OXFORD 8UPPOBTBB8 829

it wise at a pretty early hour to withdraw from a triangular
fight. The old high-and-dry party and the evangelical
party combined to bring out Mr. Round. If he had achieved jg^ 33^
no sort of distinction, Mr. Round had at least given no
offence : above all, he had kept clear of all those tractarian
innovations which had been finally stamped with the censure
of the university two years before.

Charles Wordsworth, his old tutor and now warden of

Glenalmond, found it hard to give Mr. Gladstone his support,

because he himself held to the high principle of state

conscience, while the candidate seemed more than ever bent

on the rival doctrine of social justice. Mr. Hallam joined

his committee, and what that learned veteran's adhesion was

in influence among older men, that of Arthur Clough was

among the younger. Northcote described Clough to Mr.

Gladstone as a very favourable specimen of a class, growing in

numbers and importance among the younger Oxford men, a

friend of Carlyle's, Frank Newman's, and others of that stamp ;

well read in German literature and an admirer of German

intellect, but also a still deeper admirer of Dante ; just now

busily taking all his opinions to pieces and not beginning to

put them together again ; but so earnest and good that he

might be trusted to work them into something better than

lib friends inclined to fear. Ruskin, again, who had the

year before published the memorable second volume of his

Modem Painters (he was still well under thirty), was on the

right side, and the Oxford chairman is sure that Mr. Glad-

I stone will appreciate at its full value the support of such

I high personal merit and extraordinary natural genius. Scott,

\ the learned Grecian who had been beaten along with Mr.

\ Gladstone in the contest for the Ireland scholarship seventeen

years before, wrote to him : — ' Ever since the time when you

and I received Strypes at the hand of the vice-chancellor,

and so you became my

* ofJUOfiaoTiyuiq
XajSiov dlywvo? ras teas irkriya^ c/utot,' ^

^ Progs, 766 ; the second line is At least, we carried off one Strype

Scott's own. An Aristophanic friend apiece.'

^nmsJates : — Strype was the book given to Scott

'Good brother-rogue, we've shared and Gladstone as being good seconds

-j the selfsame beating : to the winner of the Ireland. See

/

above p. 61.

880 IfBSiBEB FOB OXFOBD

I have looked forward to your being the representative of
the university.' Richard Greswell of Worcester was the
1847. faithful chairman of his Oxford committee now and to the
end, eighteen years off. He had reached the dignity of a
bachelor of divinity, but nearly all the rest were no more
than junior masters.

Routh, the old president of Magdalen, declined to vote for
him on the well-established ground that Christ Church had
no business to hold both seats. Mr. Gladstone at once met
this by the dexterous proposition that though Christ Church
was not entitled to elect him against the wish of the other
colleges, yet the other colleges were entitled to elect him if
they liked, by giving him a majority not made up of Christ
Church votes. His eldest brother had written to tell him in
terms of affectionate regret, that he could take no part in the
election ; mere political differences would be secondary, but .
in the case of a university, religion came first, and there it^
was impossible to separate a candidate from his religious
opinions. When the time came, however, partly unde^
strong pressure from Sir John, Thomas Gladstone took ^^
more lenient view and gave his brother a vote.

The Round men pointed triumphantly to their hero^^
votes on Maynooth and on the Dissenters' Chapels biL_7|
and insisted on the urgency of upholding the principles ^z^/
the united church of England and Ireland in their imjj
integrity. The backers of Mr. Gladstone retorted by r©.
calling their champion's career ; how in 1834 he first made
himself known by his resistance to the admission of dis-
senters to the universities ; how in 1841 he threw himself
into the first general move for the increase of the colonial
episcopate, which had resulted in the erection of eleven new
sees in six years ; how zealously with energy and money he
had laboured for a college training for the episcopalian
clergy in Scotland ; how instrumental he was in 1846, during
the few months for which he held the seals of secretary of
state, in erecting four colonial bishoprics ; how the Society
for the Propagation of the Gospel, through the mouth of th^
Archbishop of Canterbury himself, had thanked him for his
services ; how long he had been an active supporter of tl^^

THE OONTEBT 831

great societies for the spread of charch principles, the pro-
pagation of church doctrines, and the erection of church
fabrics. As for the Dissenters' Chapels bill, it was an act of jb^^SS.
simple justice and involved no principles at issue between
the church and dissent, and Mr. Gladstone's masterly exposi-
tion of the tendency of dissent to drop one by one all the
vital truths of Christianity was proclaimed to be a real service
to the church. The reader will thus see the lie of the land,
what it meant to be member for a university, and why Mr.
Gladstone thought the seat the highest of electoral prizes.

A circular was issued impugning his position on protestant
grounds. 'I humbly trust,' wrote Mr. Gladstone in reply
(July 26), *that its writers are not justified in exhibiting me
to the world as a person otherwise than heartily devoted to
the doctrine and constitution of our reformed church. But
I will never consent to adopt as the test of such doctrine,
SL disposition to identify the great and noble cause of the
c^hurch of England with the restraint of the civil rights of
^hose who differ from her.' Much was made of Mr. Glad-
stone's refusal to vote for the degradation of Ward. People
^i^rote to the newspapers that it was an admitted and notorious
^act that a sister of Mr. Gladstone's under his own influence
liad gone over to the church of Rome.^ The fable was
retracted, but at once revived in the still grosser untruth,
that he habitually employed 'a Jesuitical system of argu-
ment ' to show that nobody need leave the church of Eng-
land, ^because all might be had there that was to be
[ enjoyed in the church of Rome.' Maurice published a letter
\ to a London clergyman vigorously remonstrating against
i the bigoted spirit that this election vr^s warming into life,
:} and fervently protesting against making a belief in the
^ Nicene creed into the same thing as an opinion about a
* certain way of treating the property of unitarians. 'One
' artifice of this kind,' said Maurice, * has been practised in
this election which it makes me blush to speak of. Mr.
Ward called the reformation a vile and accursed thing;
Mr. Gladstone voted against a certain measure for the
condemnation of Mr. Ward; therefore he spoke of the
\ 1 Standard, May 29, 1847.

382 MT^-^^^^iTt. FOB OXFORD

reformation as a vile and accursed thing. I should not have
believed it possible that such a conclusion had been drawn
1847. from such premisses even by our religious press.'

The worthy Mr. Round, on the other hand, was almost
impregnable. A diligent scrutiny at last dragged the dark
fact to the light of day, that he had actually sat on PeeFs
election committee at the time of catholic emancipation in
1829, and had voted for him against Inglis. So it appears,
said the mocking Gladstonians, that the protestant Mr.
Round ' was willing to lend a helping hand to the first of
a series of measures which are considered by his supporters
as fraught with danger to the country's very best interests.'
A still more sinister rumour was next bruited abroad : that
Mr. Round attended a dissenting place of worship, and he
was constrained to admit that, once in 1845 and thrice in
1846, he had been guilty of this blacksliding. The lost
ground, however, was handsomely recovered by a public
declaration that the very rare occasions on which he had
been present at other modes of Christian worship had only
confirmed his affection and reverential attachment to the
services and formularies of his own church.

The nomination was duly made in the Sheldonian theatre
(July 29), the scene of so many agitations in these fiery
days. Inglis was proposed by a canon of Christ Church,
Round by the master of Balliol, and Gladstone by Dr.
Richards, the rector of Exeter. The prime claim advanced
for him by his proposer, was his zeal for the English church
in word and deed, above all his energy in securing that
wherever the English church went, thither bishoprics should
go too. Besides all this, his master work, he had found
time to spare not only for public business of the common-
wealth, but for the study of theology, philosophy, and the arts.^

^ The proposer^s Latin is succinct, inde nostrsB academisB honoribos

and may be worth giving for its cumulatus ad res civiles cum magnl

academic flavour : — * Jam inde a omnium expectatione se contolit ; ex-

pueritia literarum studio imbutus, pectatione tamen major omni evasit

et in 'celeberrimo Etonensi gymnasio In senatUs enim domum infcriorem

informatus, ad nostram accessit cooptatus, eam ad negotia tractaixb

academiam, ubi morum honestate, habilitatem, et ingenii perspicaciUk

pietate, et pudore nemini sequalium tem ezhibebat, ut reipublic» f^^

secundus, indole et ingenio facile minlstrationis particeps et adjator

omnibus antecellebat. Summis de- adhuc adolescens fieiet Qatntain i

VIGTOBY AT THE POLL 833

Then the voting began. The Gladstonians went into the
battle with 1100 promises. Northcote,^ passing vigilant days
in the convocation house, sent daily reports to Mr. Gladstone
at Fasque. Peel went up to vote for him (splitting for Inglis) ;
Ashley went up to vote against him. At the close of the
second day things looked well, but there was no ground for
over-confidence. Inglis was six hundred ahead of Gladstone,
and Gladstone only a hundred and twenty ahead of Round.
The next day Round fell a little more behind, and when the
end came (August 3) the figures stood : — Inglis 1700, Glad-
stone 997, Round 824, giving Gladstone a majority of 173
over his competitor.

Numbers were not the only important point. When
the poll came to be analysed by eager statisticians, the
decision of the electors was found to have a weight not
measured by an extra hundred and seventy votes. For
example, Mr. Gladstone had among his supporters twenty-
five double-firsts against seven for Round, and of single
first-classes he had one hundred and fifty-seven against
Round's sixty-six. Of Ireland and Hertford scholars Mr.
Gladstone had nine to two and three to one respectively;
and of chancellor's prizemen who voted he had forty-five
against twelve. Of fellows of colleges he had two hundred
and eighteen against one hundred and twenty -eight, and his

erga ecclesiam Anglicanam ejus private secretary to Mr. Gladstone

■todiom non verba, sed facta, testen- at the board of trade. On the ap-

tor. Is enim erat qui inter primos pointment of his first private secre-

cC perpaocos snmmo labore et elo- tary, Mr. Rawson, to a post in

qpentia contendebat, ut ubicunque Canada in 1842, Mr. Gladstone ap-

oitis terrarom ecclesia Anglicana plied to Coleridge of Eton to recom-

perrenisset, episcopatus quoque eve- mend a successor. He suggested

aeretar. Et quamdiu e secretis three names, Farrer, afterwards

K«gin» fait, ecclesia Anglicana apud Lord Farrer, Northcote, and Pocock.

colonos nostros plurirais locis labe- Northcote, who looked to a political

fiwUm suft ope stabilivit, et patro- career, was chosen. ' Mr. Gladstone,*

clninm ejus suscepit. Neque vero he wrote to a friend, June 30, 1842,

pnblicis negotiis adeo se dedit quin * is the man of all others among the

<lwolop«, philosophise, artium studio statesmen of the present day to whom

▼aciret Quae cum ita sint, si delega- I should desire to attach myself. . . .

ton, Academici, cooptare velimus. He is one whom I respect beyond

<pi cam omni lande idem nostris measure ; he stands almost alone as

»*»« decus et tutamen sit, et qui representative of principles with

eloqnentise et argumenti vi, which I cordially agree ; and as a

^et libertates nostras tueri queat, man of business, and one who humanly

'' hodie suCfragiis nostris com- speaking is sure to rise, he is pre-

^bemns.' eminent' —Lang's Life of Lard

^Sufioid Northcote had been Iddealeigh, l VV- 0^-01.

834 MKMB«B FO& OXVOBD

majority in this class was highest where the electioos to
fellowships were open. The heads of the colleges told a
^g^.j^ different tale. Of these, sixteen voted for Bound and odIj
four for Gladstone. This discrepancy it was that gaye its
significance to the victory. Sitting in the convocation house
watching the last casual voters drop in at the rate of two or
three an hour through the summer afternoon, the ever faithful
Northcote wrote to Mr. Gladstone at Fasque : —

Since I have been here, the contest has seemed even more
interesting than it did in London. The effect of the contest
itself has apparently been good. It has brought together the
younger men without distinction of party, and has supplied the i
elements of a very noble party which will now look to you as i
leader. I think men of all kinds are prepared to trust you, and
though each feels that you will probably differ from his set in
some particulars, each seems disposed to waive objections for the
sake of the general good he expects. . . .

The victory is not looked upon as *Puseyite*; it is a victory of
the masters over the Hebdomadal board, and as such a very
important one. The Heads felt it their last chance, and are said to
have expressed themselves accordingly. The provost of Qaeen'S,
who is among the dissatisfied supporters of Bound, said the other
day, *He would rather be represented by an old woman than by
a young man.' It is not as a Maynoothian that you are dreaded
here, though they use the cry against you and though that is the
country feeling, but as a possible reformer and a man who thinks.
On the other hand, the young men exult, partly in the hope that
you will do something for the university yourself, partly in the
consciousness that they have shown the strength of the magisterial
party by carrying you against the opposition of the Heads, and
have proved their title to be considered an important element of
the university. They do not seem yet to be sufRciently united to
effect great things, but there is a large amount of ability and
earnestness which only wants direction, and this contest has
tended to unite them. *Puseyism' seems rather to be a name of
the past, though there are still Puseyites of importance. Marriott,
Mozley, and Church appear to be regarded as leaders; but Church
who is now abroad, is looked upon as something more, and I aid

PECULIARITY OP ELECTION 886

old may be considered on the whole the fairest exponent of the
eelings of the place. Stanley, Jowett, Temple, and others are
;reat names in what is nicknamed the Germanising party. Lake,
jud perhaps I should say Temple, hold an intermediate position
between the two parties. . . . Whatever may have been the evils
attendant on the Puseyite movement, and I believe they were
leither few nor small, it has been productive of great results ; and
it is not a little satisfactory to see how its distinctive features are
dying away and the spirit surviving, instead of the spirit departing
and leaving a great sham behind it.

Of the many strange positions to which in his long and
ardent life Mr. Gladstone was brought, none is more startling
than to find him, as in this curious moment at Oxford, the
common rallying-point of two violently antagonistic sections
of opinion. Dr. Pusey supported him ; Stanley and Jowett
supported him. The old school who looked on Oxford as the
ancient and peculiar inheritance of the church were zealous
for him ; the new school who deemed the university an organ
not of the church but of the nation, eagerly took him for
their champion. A great ecclesiastical movement, reviving
authority and tradition, had ended in complete academic
repulse in 1845. It was now to be followed by an anti-
ecclesiastical movement, critical, sceptical, liberal, scornful
of authority, doubtful of tradition. Yet both the receding
force and the rising force united to swell the stream that
bore Mr. Gladstone to triumph at the poU. The fusion did
not last. The two bands speedily drew oflf into their rival
camps, to arm themselves in the new conflict for mastery
between obscurantism and illumination. The victor was left
with his laurels in what too soon proved to be, after all, a
vexed and precarious situation, that he could neither hold
with freedom nor quit with honour.

Meanwhile he thoroughly enjoyed his much coveted dis-
tinction : —

To Mrs. Gladstone.

Exeter Coll, Nov. 2, 1847. — This morning in company with Sir
^. Inglis, and under the protection or chaperonage of the dean,
1 have made the formal circuit of visits to all the heads of houses

J£t. 88.

886 MEMBER FOB OXFOBD

BOOK and all the common-rooms. It has gone off very well. There was
^ • J but one reception by a head (Corpus) that was not decidedly ^•tmf,
23^.^ and that was only a little cold. Marsham (Merton), who is a
frank, warm man, keenly opposed, said very fairly, to Inglis, * 1
congratulate you warmly ' ; and then to me, * And I would be very
glad to do the same to you, Mr. Gladstone, if I could think you
would do the same as Sir B. Inglis.' I like a man for this. Thej
say the dean should have asked me to dine to^y, but I think
he may be, and perhaps wisely, afraid of recognising me in any
very marked way, for fear of endangering the old Christ Church
right to one seat which it is his peculiar duty to guard.

We dined yesterday in the hall at Christ Church, it being a
grand day there. Rather unfortunately the undergraduates chose
to make a row in honour of me during dinner, which the two
censors had to run all down the hall to stop. This had better
not be talked about. Thursday the warden of All Souls' has
asked me and I thivik I must accept ; had it not been a head (and
it is one of the little party of four who voted for me) I should
not have doubted, but at once have declined.

CHAPTER II

THE HA WARDEN ESTATE

It is no BaseneaB for the Greatest to descend and looke into their
owne Estate. Some forbeare it, not upon Negligence alone, Bat
donbUng to bring themselves into Melancholy in respect they shall
flnde it Broken. But wounds cannot be cured without Searching.
Hee that oleareth by Degrees induceth a habit of Frugalitie, and
galni^ as well upon his Minde, as upon his Estate. — Bacon.

[(JST here pause for material affairs of money and business,
.h which, as a rule, in the case of its heroes the public is
Lsidered to have little concern. They can no more be
3g^ther omitted here than the bills, acceptances, renewals,
.68 of hand, and all the other financial apparatus of his
nters and publishers can be left out of the story of Sir
liter Scott. Not many pages will be needed, though this
ivity will give the reader little idea of the pre-occupations
:h which they beset a not inconsiderable proportion of Mr.
idstone's days. A few sentences in a biography many a
le mean long chapters in a life, and what looked like an
ident turns out to be an epoch.

Sir Stephen Glynne possessed a small property in Staf-
rdshire of something less than a hundred acres of land,
med the Oak Farm, near Stourbridge, and under these acres
?re valuable seams of coal and ironstone. For this he refused
I offer of five-and-thirty thousand pounds in 1835, and under
le advice of an energetic and sanguine agent proceeded to its
ipid development. On the double marriage in 1839, Sir
aephen associated his two brothers-in-law with himself to the
nodest extent of one-tenth share each in an enterprise that
leemed of high prospective value. Their interests were
icquired through their wives, and it is to be presumed that
VOL. I — z 337

JEft.SS.

338 THE HAWABDEN ESTATE

BOOK they had no opportunity of making a personal examination of
• y the concern. The adventurous agent, now manager-in-chief of

1847. *^® business, rapidly extended operations, setting up furnaces,
forges, rolling-mills, and all the machinery for producing
tools and hardware for which he foresaw a roaring foreign
market. The agent's confidence and enthusiasm mastered
his principal, and large capital was raised solely on the
security of the Hawarden fortune and credit. Whether Oak
Farm was irrationally inflated or not, we cannot say, though
the impression is that it had the material of a sound property
if carefully worked ; but it was evidently pushed in excess
of its realisable capital. The whole basis of its credit was
the Hawarden estate, and a forced stoppage of Oak Farm
would be the death-blow to Hawarden. As early as 1844
clouds rose on the horizon. The position of Sir Stephen
Glynne had become seriously compromised, while under thci
system of unlimited partnership the liability of his two
brothers-in-law extended in proportion. In 1845 the thre«
brothers-in-law by agreement retired, each retaining an
equitable mortgage on the concern. Two years later, one
of our historic panics shook the money-market, and in its
course brought down Oak Farm. ^ A great accountant
reported, a meeting was held at Freshfield's, the company
was found hopelessly insolvent, and it was determined to
wind up. The court directed a sale. In April 1849, at
Birmingham, Mr. Gladstone purchased the concern on behalf
of himself and his two brothers-in-law, subject to certain
existing interests ; and in May Sir Stephen Glynne resumed
legal possession of the wreck of Oak Farm. The burden on
Hawarden was over j£ 250,000, leaving its owner with no
margin to live upon.

Into this far-spreading entanglement Mr. Gladstone for
several years threw himself with the whole weight of his
untiring tenacity and force. He plunged into masses of
accounts, mastered the coil of interests and parties, studied
legal intricacies, did daily battle with human unreason, and
year after year carried on a voluminous correspondence.

^ For an account of the creditors* meeting held at Birmingham on Dee. %
1847, see the Times of Dec. 8, 1847.

OAK FARM 389

There are a hundred and forty of his letters to Mr. Freshfield
on Oak Farm alone. Let us note in passing what is, I think,
a not unimportant biographic fact. These circumstances j^^ ^
brought him into close and responsible contact with a side
of the material interests of the country that was new to him.
At home he had been bred in the atmosphere of commerce.
At the board of trade, in the reform of the tariff, in connec-
tion with the Bank act and in the growth of the railway
system, he had been well trained in high economics. Now
lie came to serve an arduous apprenticeship in the motions
and machinery of industrial life. The labour was immense,
prolonged, uncongenial ; but it completed his knowledge of
the customs, rules, maxims, and currents of trade and it bore
good fruit in future days at the exchequer. He manfully
and deliberately took up the burden as if the errors had
been his own, and as if the financial sacrifice that he was
called to make both now and later were matter of direct
and inexorable obligation. These, indeed, are the things in
life that test whether a man be made of gold or clay. * The
weight,' he writes to his father (June 16, 1849), 'of the
private demands upon my mind has been such, since the Oak
Farm broke down, as frequently to disqualify me for my
duties in the House of Commons.' The load even tempted
him, along with the working of other considerations, to
think of total withdrawal from parliament and public life.
Yet without a trace of the frozen stoicism or cynical apathy
that sometimes passes muster for true resignation, he kept
himself nobly free from vexation, murmur, repining, and
complaint. Here is a moving passage from a letter of the
time to Mrs. Gladstone : —

Fasque, Jan, 20, 1849. — Do not suppose for a moment that if
I could by waving my hand strike out for ever from my cares and
occupations those which relate to the Oak Farm and Stephen's
affairs, I would do so ; I have never felt that, have never asked
it; and if my language seems to look that way, it is the mere im-
patience of weakness comforting itself by finding a vent. It has
endently come to me by the ordinance of God ; and I am rather
frightened to think how light my lot would be, were it removed,

840 THE HA WARDEN ESTATE

SO light that something else would surely come in its place. I d
not confound it with visitations and afflictions; it is merely
1847. drain on strength and a peculiar one, because it asks for a kin
of strength and skill and habits which I have not, but it fall
altogether short of the category of high trials. Least of aJ
suppose that the subject can ever associate itself painfully wit!
the idea of you. No persons who have been in contact with i
can be so absolutely blameless as you and Mary, nor can our rela
tion together be rendered in the very smallest degree less or mor
a blessing by the addition or the subtraction of worldly wealtL
I have abundant comfort now in the thought that at any rate
am the means of keeping a load off the minds of others ; and '.
shall have much more hereafter when Stephen is brought through
and once more firmly planted in the place of his fathers, providec
I can conscientiously feel that the restoration of his affairs has a
any rate not been impeded by indolence, obstinacy, or blunders 01
my part. Nor can anything be more generous than the confident
placed in me by all concerned. Indeed, I can only regret that f
is too free and absolute.

I may as well now tell the story to the end, though in
anticipation of remote dates, for in truth it held a marked
place in Mr. Gladstone's whole life, and made a standing
background amid the vast throng of varying interests and
transient commotions of his great career. Here is his own
narrative as told in a letter written to his eldest son for a
definite purpose in 1885 : —

To W. H. Gladstone.

Hawardeuy Oct. 3, 1885. — Down to the latter part of that year
(1847), your uncle Stephen was regarded by all as a wealthy
country gentleman with say £10,000 a year or more (subject,
however, to his mother's jointure) to spend, and great prospects
from iron in a Midland estate. In the bank crisis of that year
the whole truth was revealed ; and it came out that his agent at
the Oak Farm (and formerly also at Hawarden) had involved him
to the extent of £250,000 ; to say nothing of minor blows to you
uncle Lyttelton and myself.

At a conversation in the library of 13 Carlton House Terrace,!

LETTER TO HIS SON 841

was considered whether Hawarden should be sold. Every obvious
argument was in favour of it, for example the comparison between
the income and the liabilities I have named. How was Lady jEft.dS.
Glynne's jointure (£2500) to be paid ? How was Sir Stephen to
be supported ? There was no income, even less than none. Oak
Farm, the iron property, was under lease to an insolvent company,
and could not be relied on. Your grandfather, who had in some
degree surveyed the state of affairs, thought the case was hope-
less. But the family were unanimously set upon making any
and every effort and sacrifice to avoid the necessity of sale. Mr.
Barker, their lawyer, and Mr. Biurnett, the land agent, entirely
sympathised ; and it was resolved to persevere. But the first
effect was that Sir Stephen had to close the house (which it was
hoped, but hoped in vain, to let) ; to give up carriages, horses, and
I think for several years his personal servant ; and to take an
allowance of £700 a year out of which, I believe, he continued to
pay the heavy subvention of the family to the schools of the parish,
which was certainly counted by hundreds. Had the estate been
sold, it was estimated that he would have come out a wealthy
bachelor, possessed of from a hundred to a hundred and twenty
thousands pounds free from all encumbrance but the jointure.

In order to give effect to the nearly hopeless resolution thus
taken at the meeting in London, it was determined to clip the
estate by selling £200,000 worth of land. Of this, nearly one-
half was to be taken by your uncle Lyttelton and myself, in the
proportion of about two parts for me and one for him. Neither
of us had the power to buy this, but my father enabled me, and
Lord Spencer took over his portion. The rest of the sales were
effected, a number of fortunate secondary incidents occurred, and
the great business of recovering and realising from the Oak Farm
was laboriously set about.

Considerable relief was obtained by these and other measures.
By 1852, there was a partial but perceptible improvement in the
position. The house was reopened in a very quiet way by arrange-
ment, and the allowance for Sir Stephen's expenditure was rather
more than doubled. But there was nothing like ease for him
until the purchase of the reversion was effected by me in 1865.
I paid £67,000 for the bulk of the property, subject to debts not

842 THE HAWABDEN B8TATB

BOOK exceeding £150,000, and after the lives of the two biothers, the

ILL

J table value of which was, I think, twenty-two and a-half years.

1847. From this time your uncle had an income to spend of, I think,

£2200, or not more than half what he probably would have had

since 1847 had the estate been sold, which it would only have

been through the grievous fault of others.

The full process of recovery was still incomplete, but the means
of carrying it forward were now comparatively simple. Since the
reversion came in, I have, as you know, forwarded that process;
but it has been retarded by agricultural depression and by the
disastrous condition through so many years of coal-mining; so
that there still remains a considerable work to be done before the
end can be attained, which I hope will never be lost sight o^
namely, that of extinguishing the debt upon the property, though
for family purposes the estate may still remain subject to charges
in the way of annuity.

The full history of the Hawarden estate from 1847 would run
to a volume. For some years after 1847, it and the Oak Farm
supplied my principal employment^; but I was amply repaid by
the value of it a little later on as a home, and by the unbrokea
domestic happiness there enjoyed. What I think you will see, aa
clearly resulting from this narrative, is the high obligation not
only to keep the estate in the family, and as I trust in its Datural.
course of descent, but to raise it to the best condition by thrift
and care, and to promote by all reasonable means the aim of
diminishing and finally extinguishing its debt.

This I found partly on a high estimate of the general duty tc^
promote the permanence of families having estates in land, bu^
very specially on the sacrifices made, through his remaining
twenty-seven years of life, by your uncle Stephen, without ^^
murmur, and with the concurrence of us all. . . .

Before closing I will repair one omission. When I concurre^-^
in the decision to struggle for the retention of Hawarden, I ha3-
not the least idea that my children would have an interest in th^
succession. In 1847 your uncle Stephen was only forty; J(X(m^
uncle Henry, at thirty-seven, was married, and had a child ahnos*

1 To Lord Lyttelton, July 29, 1874 : it ; and after 1862 my attention ^
* I could not devote my entire life to only occasionaL*

I

FINAL SBTTLEMBNT 848

every year. It was not until 1865 that I had any title to look
forward to your becoming at a future time the proprietor. — Ever
your ajffectionate father. j^^ 28.

The upshot is this, that Mr. Gladstone, with his father's

consent and support, threw the bulk of his own fortune into

the assets of Hawarden. By this, and the wise realisation

of everything convertible to advantage, including, in 1866,

the reversion after the lives of Sir Stephen Glynne and his

brother, he succeeded in making what was left of Hawarden

solvent. His own expenditure from first to last upon the

Hawarden estate as now existing, he noted at JE 267,000. *It

has been for thirty-five years,' he wrote to W. H. Gladstone

in 1882, 'i.g., since the breakdown in 1847, a great object of

my life, in conjunction with your mother and your uncle

Stephen, to keep the Hawarden estate together (or replace

what was alienated), to keep it in the family, and to relieve

it from debt with which it was ruinously loaded.'

In 1867 a settlement was made, to which Sir Stephen
Glynne and his brother, and Mr. Gladstone and his wife, were
the parties, by which the estate was conveyed in trust for one
or more of the Gladstone children as Mr. Gladstone might
appoint.^ This was subject to a power of determining the
settlement by either of the Glynne brothers, on repaying with
interest the sum paid for the reversion. As the transaction
touched matters in which he might be supposed liable to
bias, Mr. Gladstone required that its terms should be referred
to two men of perfect competence and probity — Lord Devon
and Sir Robert Phillimore — for their judgment and approval.
Phillimore visited Hawarden (August 19-26, 1865) to meet
Lord Devon, and to confer with him upon Sir Stephen
Glynne's aflfairs. Here are a couple of entries from his
diary : —

Aug. 26. — The whole morning was occupied with the investiga-
tion of S. G.'s affairs by Lord Devon and myself. We examined

^ This settlement followed the lines and then to W. E. Gladstone's other

5* » will made by Sir Stephen in 1855, sons ; and in default of male issue of

^^▼ising the estate to his brother for W. E. Gladstone, then to the eldest

^^«> with the remainder to his brother's and other sons of Lord Lyttelton, and

■WW in tail male ; and next to W. H. so forth in the ordinary form of an

•; (liadstone and his sons in tail male, entailed estate.

I

844 THB HAWABDEN ESTATB

at some length the solicitor and the agent Lord D. and I per-
fectly agreed in the opinion expressed in a memorandum signed
1847. ^y ^ both. Gladstone, as might have been expected, has be-
haved very well. Sept, 19 [London']. — Correspondence between
Lyttelton and Gladstone, contained in Lord Devon's letter. Same
subject as that which Lord D. and I came to consult upon at
Hawarden. S^t 24. — I wrote to Stephen Glynne to the effect
that Henry entirely approved of the scheme agreed upon by Lord
D. and myself, after a new consideration of all the circumstances,
and after reading the Lyttelton-Gladstone correspondence. I
showed Henry Glynne the letter, of which he entirely approved.

In 1874 the death of Sir Stephen Glynne, following that
of his brother two years before, made Mr. Gladstone owner
in possession of the Hawarden estate, under the transaction
of 1865. With as little delay as possible (April 1875) he took
the necessary steps to make his eldest son the owner in fee,
and seven years after that (October 1882) he further trans-
ferred to the same son his own lands in the county, acquired
by purchase, as we have seen, after the crash in 1847. By
agreement, the possession and control of the castle and it»
contents remained with Mrs. Gladstone for life, as if she were
taking a life-interest in it under settlement or will.

Although, therefore, for a few months the legal owner of
the whole Hawarden estate, Mr. Gladstone divested himself of
that quality as soon as he could, and at no time did he assume
to be its master. The letters written by him on these matters
to his son are both too interesting as the expression of his
views on high articles of social policy, and too characteristic
of his ideas of personal duty, for me to omit them here,
though much out of their strict chronological place. The first
is written after the death of Sir Stephen, and the falling ii
of the reversion : —

To W. H. Gladstone.

11 Carlton House Terrace, April 5, 1875. — There are severs
matters which I have to mention to you, and for which t\
present moment is suitable; while they embrace the future i
several of its aspects.

FUBTHEB LETTERS TO HIS SON 345

1. I have given instructions to Messrs. Barker and Hignett to
oonvert your life interest under the Hawarden settlement into a
fee simple. Beflection and experience have brought me to favour j^^ 33^
this latter method of holding landed property as on the whole the
best, though the arguments may not be all on one side. In the
present case, they are to my mind entirely conclusive. First,
because I am able thoroughly to repose in you an entire confi-
dence as to your use of the estate during your lifetime, and your
capacity to provide wisely for its future destination. Secondly,
because you have, delivered over to you with the estate, the duty
and office of progressively emancipating it from the once ruinous
debt ; and it is almost necessary towards the satisfactory prose-
wtion of this purpose, which it may still take very many years
to complete, that you should be entire master of the property,
iiid should feel the full benefit of the steady care and attention
which it ought to receive from you.

2. I hope that with it you will inherit the several conter-
itiiioas properties belonging to me, and that you will receive
flkese in such a condition as to enjoy a large proportion of the
income they yield. Taking the two estates together, they form
die most considerable estate in the county, and give what may
be termed the first social position there. The importance of this
position is enhanced by the large population which inhabits them.
ToQ will, I hope, familiarise your mind with this truth, that you
on no more become the proprietor of such a body of property,
CI of the portion of it now accruing, than your brother Stephen
could become rector of the parish, without recognising the serious
Bonl and social responsibilities which belong to it. They are
M of interest and rich in pleasure, but they demand (in the
ibsence of special cause) residence on the spot, and a good share
of time, and especially a free and ungrudging discharge of them.
Xowherc in the world is the position of the landed proprietor so
high as in this conntry, and this in great part for the reason that
nowhere else is the possession of landed property so closely
associated with definite duty.

3. In troth, with this and your seat in parliament, which I
hope (whether Whitby supply it, or whether you migrate) will
ecmtinne, you will, I trust, have a well-charged, though not an

846 THE HAWABDEN ESTATE

over-charged, life, and will, like professional and other thoroughly
employed men, have to regard the bulk of your time as forestalled
1847. o^ behalf of duty, while a liberal residue may be available for
your special pursuits and tastes, and for recreations. This is
really the sound basis of life, which never can be honourable or
satisfactory without adequate guarantees against frittering away,
even in part, the precious gift of time.

While touching on the subject I would remind you of an old
recommendation of mine, that you should choose some parlia-
mentary branch or subject, to which to give special attention.
The House of Commons has always heard your voice with pleas-
ure, and ought not to be allowed to forget it. I say this the
more freely, because I think it is, in your case, the virtue of a j
real modesty, which rather too much indisposes you to put your-
self forward.

Yet another word. As years gather upon me, I naturally
look forward to what is to be after I am gone ; and although I
should indeed be sorry to do or say anything having a tendency
to force the action of your mind beyond its natural course, it
will indeed be a great pleasure to me to see you well settled in
life by marriage. Well settled, I feel confident, you will be, it
settled at all. In your position at Hawarden, there woultl
then be at once increased ease and increased attraction in th^
performance of your duties ; nor can I overlook the fact that th<?
life of the unmarried man, in this age particularly, is under pecul^
iar and insidious temptations to selfishness, unless his celibacy
arise from a very strong and definite course of self-devotioo
to the service of God and his fellow creatures.

The great and sad change of Hawarden [by the death of Si^
Stephen] which has forced upon us the consideration of so man^T
subjects, gave at the same time an opening for others, and it^
seemed to me to be best to put together the few remarks I bad
to make. I hope the announcement with which I began will sho'w"
that I write in the spirit of confidence as well as of affection. It
is on this footing that we have ever stood, and I trust ever shall
stand. You have acted towards me at all times up to the standard
of all I coidd desire. May you have the help of the Almighty
to embrace as justly, and fulfil as cheerfully, the whole conception

DUTIES OF A LANDOWKBB 847

of your duties in the position to which it has pleased Him to call CHAP,
you, and which perhaps has come upon you with somewhat the v ' y
effect of a surprise ; that may, however, have the healthy influence jet. 88.
of a stimulus to action, and a help towards excellence. Believe
me ever, my dear son, your affectionate father.

In the second letter Mr. Gladstone informed W. H. Glad-
stone that he had at Chester that morning (Oct. 23, 1882),
along with Mrs. Gladstone, executed the deeds that made
his son the proprietor of Mr. Gladstone's lands in Flintshire,
subject to the payment of annuities specified in the instru-
ment of transfer ; and he proceeds : —

I earnestly entreat that you will never, under any circum-
stances, mortgage any of your land. I consider that our law has
offered to proprietors of land, imder a narrow and mistaken notion
of promoting their interests, dangerous facilities and inducements
to this practice ; and that its mischievous consequences have been
80 terribly felt (the word is strong, but hardly too strong) in the
case of Hawarden, that they ought to operate powerfully as a
warning for the future.

You are not the son of very wealthy parents ; but the income
of the estates (the Hawarden estates and mine jointly), with your
prudence and diligence, will enable you to go steadily forward
in the work I have had in hand, and after a time will in the
course of nature give considerable means for the purpose.

I have much confidence in your prudence and intelligence;
I have not the smallest fear that the rather unusual step I have
taken will in any way weaken the happy union and harmony of
our family ; and I am sure you will always bear in mind the
duties which attach to you as the head of those among whom
you receive a preference, and as the landlord of a numerous
tenantry, prepared to give you their confidence and affection.

A third letter on the same topics followed three years
after, and contains a narrative of the Hawarden transactions
already given in an earlier page of this chapter.

To TT. J7". aiadstone.

Oct, 3, 1886. — When you first made known to me that you
thought of retiring from the general election of this year, I

348 THB HA WARDEN ESTATE

BOOK received the intiination with mixed feelings. The question of
V J money no doubt deserves, under existing circumstances, to be

1847. ^®P^ i^ '^^^ ; still I must think twice before regarding this as
the conclusive question. I conceive the balance has to be struck
mainly between these two things; on the one hand, the duty of
persons connected with the proprietorship of considerable estates
in land, to assume freely the burden and responsibility of serving
in parliament. On the other hand, the peculiar position of this
combined estate, which in the first place is of a nature to demand
from the proprietor an unusual degree of care and supervision,
and which in the second place has been hit severely by recent
depressions in com and coal, which may be termed its two
pillars.

On the first point it may fairly be taken into view that in
serving for twenty years you have stood four contested elec-
tions, a number I think decidedly beyond the average. ... I
will assume, for the present, that the election has passed without
bringing you back to parliament. I should then consider that
you had thus relieved yourself, at any rate for a period, from
a serious call upon your time and mind, mainly with a view to
the estate ; and on this account, and because I have constituted
you its legal master, I write this letter in order to place clearly
before you some of the circumstances which invest your relation
to it with a rather peculiar character.

I premise a few words of a general nature. An enemy to
entails, principally though not exclusively on social and domestic
grounds, I nevertheless regard it as a very high duty to labour
for the conservation of estates, and the permanence of the families
in possession of them, as a principal source of our social strength,
and as a large part of true conservatism, from the time when
Aeschylus wrote

But if their possession is to be prolonged by conduct, not by
factitious arrangements, we must recognise this consequence, that
conduct becomes subject to fresh demands and liabilities.

In condemning laws which tie up the corpus, I say nothing

^ Agam. 1048, * A great blessing are masten with ancient riches.*

DUTIES OP A LANDOWNER 349

against powers of charge, either by marriage settlement or other-
wise, for wife and children, although questions of degree and
circumstance may always have to be considered. But to mort-
gages I am greatly opposed. Whether they ought or ought not to
be restrained by law, I do not now inquire. But I am confident
that few and rare causes only will warrant them, and that as a
general rule they are mischievous, and in many cases, as to their
consequences, anti-social and immoral. Wherever they exist they
ought to be looked upon as evils, which are to be warred upon and
got rid of. One of our financial follies has been to give them
encouragement by an excessively low tax ; and one of the better
effects of the income-tax is that it is a fine upon mortgaging.

CHAPTER III

PABTY EVOLUTION — NEW COLONIAL POLICY

{184^-1860)

I SHALL ever thankfally rejoice to have lived in a period when so
blessed a change in our colonial policy was brought about ; a change
which is full of promise and profit to a country having such claims
on mankind as England, but also a change of system, in which we
have done no more than make a transition from misfortune and
from evil, back to the rules of justice, of reason, of nature, and of
common sense. — Gladstone (1856).

BOOK Tece fall of Peel and the break up of the conservative party
^ ^^ ^ in 1846 led to a long train of public inconveniences.
1846-60. When Lord John Russell was forming his government, he
saw Peel, and proposed to include any of his party. Peel
thought such a junction under existing circumstances un-
advisable, but said he should have no ground of complaint
if Lord John made offers to any of his friends ; and he should
not attempt to influence them either way.^ The action ended
in a proposal of oflSce to Dalhousie, Lincoln, and Sidney
Herbert. Nothing came of it, and the whigs were left to
go on as they best could upon the narrow base of their own
party. The protectionists gave them to imderstand that
before Bentinck and his friends made up their minds to turn
Peel out, they had decided that it would not be fair to put
the whigs in merely to punish the betrayer, and then to
turn round upon them. On the contrary, fair and candid
support was what they intended. The conservative govern-
ment had carried liberal measures ; the liberal government
subsisted on conservative declarations. Such was this
singular situation.

The Peelites, according to a memorandum of Mr. Glad-

1 The Halifax Papers,
350

PEBLITBS AND PROTECTIONISTS 851

stone's, from a number approaching 120 in the com law CHAP,
crisis of 1846, were reduced at once by the election of 1847 y ™* j
to less than half. This number, added to the liberal force, jg^. 87-41.
gave free trade a very large majority : added to the protec-
tionists it just turned the balance in their favour. So long
as Sir Robert Peel lived (down to June 1860) the entire
body never voted with the protectionists. From the first a
distinction arose among Peel's adherents that widened, as
time went on, and led to a long series of doubts, perturba-
tions, manoeuvres. These perplexities lasted down to 1859,
and they constitute a vital chapter in Mr. Gladstone's
political story. The distinction was in the nature of political
things. Many of those who had stood by Peel's side in the
day of battle, and who still stood by him in the curious
morrow that combined victorious policy with personal defeat,
were in more or less latent sympathy with the severed pro-
tectionists in everything except protection.^ Differing from
these, says Mr. Gladstone, others of the Peelites 'whose
opinions were more akin to those of the liberals, cherished,
nevertheless, personal sympathies and lingering wishes which
made them tardy, perhaps unduly tardy, in drawing towards
that party. I think that this description applied in some
degree to Mr. Sidney Herbert, and in the same or a greater
degree to myself.' ^

Shortly described, the Peelites were all free trade con-
servatives, drawn by under-currents, according to tempera-
ment, circumstances, and all the other things that turn the
balance of men's opinions, to antipodean poles of the political
compass. ' We have no party,' Mr. Gladstone tells his father
in June 1849, ' no organisation, no whipper-in ; and under
these circumstances we cannot exercise any considerable
degree of permanent influence as a body.' The leading
sentiment that guided the proceedings of the whole body
of Peelites alike was a desire to give to protection its final
quietus. While the younger members of the Peel cabinet
held that this could only be done in one way, namely, by

^ Among them were such men as took their places in conservative ad-
Wilson Patten, General Peel, Mr. ministrations.
Cony, Lord Stanhope, Lord Hard- « Memo, of 1876.
inge, most of whom in days to come

852 FABTY EVOLUTION

forcing the protectionists into office where they must put
their professions to the proof, Peel himself, and Graham
1S46-60. with him, took a directly opposite view, and adopted as
the leading principle of their action the vital necessity
of keeping the protectionists out. This broad di£Ference
led to no diminution of personal intercourse or political
attachment.

Certainly this was not due, says Mr. Gladstone, to any desire (at
least in Sir R. PeePs mind) for, or contemplation of, coalition with
the liberal party. It sprang entirely from a belief on his part
that the chiefs of the protectionists would on their accession to
power endeavour to establish a policy in accordance with the
designation of their party, and would in so doing probably convulse
the country. As long as Lord George Bentinck lived, with his
iron will and strong convictions, this was a contingency that could
not be overlooked. But he died in 1848, and with his death it
became a visionary dream. Yet I remember well Sir Robert Peel
saying to me^ when I was endeavouring to stir him up on some
great fault (as I thought it), in the colonial policy of the
ministers, ' I foresee a tremendous struggle in this coxmtry for the
restoration of protection.' He would sometimes even threaten
us with the possibility of being ^ sent for ' if a crisis should occur,
which was a thing far enough from our limited conceptions. We
were flatly at issue with him on this opinion. We even considered
that as long as the protectionists had no responsibilities but those
of opposition, and as there were two hundred and Efty seats in
parliament to be won by chanting the woes of the land and
promising redress, there would be protectionists in plenty to fill
the left hand benches on those terms.

The question what it was that finally converted the country
to free trade is not easy to answer. Not the arguments of
Cobden, for in the summer of 1846 even his buoyant spirit
perceived that some precipitating event, and not reasoning,
would decide. His appeals had become, as Disraeli wrote,
both to nation and parliament a wearisome iteration,
and he knew it. Those arguments, it is true, had laid
the foundations of the case in all their solidity and
breadth. But until the emergency in Ireland presented

BELATI0N8 WITH PEEL 363

itself, and until prosperity had justified the experiment, CHAP.
Peel was hardly wrong in reckoning on the possibility of a ^ ' j
protectionist reaction. Even the new prosperity and oon- j^^^'j^i^
tentment of the country were capable of being explained by
the extraordinary employment found in the creation of rail-
ways. As Mr. Gladstone said to a correspondent in the
autumn of 1846, 'The liberal proceedings of conservative
governments, and the conservative proceedings of the new
liberal administration, unite in pointing to the propriety of
an abstinence from high-pitched opinions.' This was a
euphemism. What it really meant was that outside of pro-
tection no high-pitched opinions on any other subject were
available. The tenets of party throughout this embarrassed
period from 1846 to 1852 were shifting, equivocal, and fluid.
Nor even in the period that followed did they very rapidly
consolidate.
Mr. Gladstone writes to his father (June 80, 1849) : —

I will only add a few words about your desire that I should
withdraw my confidence from Peel. My feelings of admiration,
attachment, and gratitude to him I do not expect to lose ; and I
agree ^nth Graham that he has done more and suffered more than
any other living statesman for the good of the people. But still
I must confess with sorrow that the present course of events tends
to separate and disorganise the small troop of the late government
and their adherents. On the West Indian question last year I,
with others, spoke and voted against Peel. On the Navigation
law this year I was saved from it only by the shipowners and
their friends, who would not adopt a plan upon the basis I pro-
posed. Upon Canada — a vital question — I again spoke and voted
against him.* And upon other colonial questions, yet most im-
portant to the government, I fear even this year the same thing
inay happen again. However painful, then, it may be to me to
differ from him, it is plain that my conduct is not placed in his
hands to govern.

We find an illustration of the distractions of this long day

' A bill to indemnify the inhabit- injury of their property. Mr. Glad-

jits of Lower Canada, many of stone strongly opposed any com-

rboxn had taken part in the rebellion pensation being given to Canadian

f 1837-^, for the destruction and rebels. — ^an«ard, June 14, 1840.

VOL. I — 2 a

864 PARTY EVOLUTION

of party metamorphosis, as well as an example of what was
regarded as Mr. Gladstone's over-ingenuity, in one among
1846-50. other passing divergences between him and his chief. Mr.
Disraeli brought forward a motion (Feb. 19, 1850) of a
very familiar kind, on the distress of the agricultural classes
and the insecurity of relief of rural burdens. Bright bluntly
denied that there was a case in which the fee of land had
been depreciated or rent been permanently lowered. Graham
said the mover's policy was simply a transfer of the entire
poor rate to the consolidated fund, violating the principles
of local control and inviting prodigal expenditure. Fortune
then, in Mr. Disraeli's own language, sent him an unexpected
champion, by whom, according to him, Graham was fairly
unhorsed. The reader will hardly think so, for though the
unexpected champion was Mr. Gladstone, he found no better
reason for supporting the motion, than that its adoption
would weaken the case for restoring protection. As if the
landlords and farmers were likely to be satisfied with a small
admission of a great claim, while all the rest of their claim
was to be as bitterly contested as ever ; with the transfer of
a shabby couple of millions from their own shoulders to the \
consolidated fund, when they were clamouring that fourteen
millions would hardly be enough. Peel rose later, promptly
took this plain point against his ingenious lieutenant, and
then proceeded to one more of his elaborate defences, both of
free trade and of his own motives and character. For the
last time, as it was to happen, Peel declared that for Mr. .
Gladstone he had *the greatest respect and admiration.*
* I was associated with him in the preparation and conduct
of those measures, to the desire of maintaining which he
partly attributes the conclusion at which he has arrived. I
derived from him the most zealous, the most effective assist-
ance, and it is no small consolation to me to hear from him,
although in this particular motion we arrive at different
conclusions, that his confidence in the justice of those
principles for which we in common contended remains
entirely unshaken.' ^

On this particular battle, as well as on more general matter,

1 Hansard, Feb. 21, 1860, p. 1233. ,

ON HIS POSITION 855

a letter from Mr. Gladstone to his wife (Feb. 22, 1850) sheds chap.
some light : — ^-^^

To Mrs. aiadstane. ^.87^1.

Indeed you do rise to very daring flights to-day, and suggest
many things that flow from your own deep affection which, per-
haps, disguises from you some things that are nevertheless real.
I cannot form to myself any other conception of my duty in
parliament except the simple one of acting independently, without
faction, and without subserviency, on all questions as they arise.
To the formation of a party, or even of the nucleus of a party,
there are in my circumstances many obstacles. I have been talk-
ing over these matters with Manning this morning, and I found
Mm to be of the opinion which is deliberately mine, namely,
that it is better that I should not be the head or leader even of
my own contemporaries ; that there are others of them whose
position is less embarrassed, and more favourable and powerful,
particularly from birth or wealth or both. Three or four years
ago, before I had much considered the matter, and while we still
felt as if Peel were our actual chief in politics, I did not think so,
but perhaps thought or assumed that as, up to the then present
time, I had discharged some prominent duties in office and in
parliament, the first place might naturally fall to me when the
other men were no longer in the van. But since we have become
more disorganised, and I have had little sense of union except with
the men of my own standing, and I have felt more of the actual
state of things, and how this or that would work in the House of
Commons, I have come to be satisfied in my own mind that, if
there were a question whether there should be a leader and who
it should be, it would be much better that either Lincoln or
Herbert should assume that post, whatever share of the mere
work might fall on me. I have viewed the matter very drily,
and so perhaps you will think I have written on it.

Tq turn then to what is more amusing, the battle of last night.
After much consideration and conference with Herbert (who has
hd an attack of bilious fever and could not come down, though
much better, and soon, I hope, to be out again, but who agreed
with me), I determined that I ought to vote last night with

356 PARTY EVOLUTION

BOOK Disraeli; and made up my mind accordingly, which involved
V • > saying why, at some period of the night. I was anxious to do it
1846-50. ^^^Jy ^ I knew Graham would speak on the other side, and
did not wish any conflict even of reasoning with him. But he
found I was going to speak, and I suppose may have had some
similar wish. At any rate, he had the opportunity of following
Stafford who began the debate, as he was to take the other side.
Then there was an amusing scene between him and PeeL Both
rose and stood in competition for the Speaker's eye. The Speaker
had seen Graham first, and he got it. But when he was speaking
I felt I had no choice but to follow him. He made so very able
a speech that this was no pleasant prospect ; but I acquired the
courage that proceeds from fear, according to a line from Ariosto :
Chi per virtii, chi per paura vaJe [one from valour, another from
fear, is strong], and made my plunge when he sat down. But the
Speaker was not dreaming of me, and called a certain Mr. Scott
who had risen at the same time. Upon this I sat down again,
and there was a great uproar because the House always antici-
pating more or less interest when men speak on opposite sides and
in succession, who are usually together, called for me. So I was
up again, and the Speaker deserted Scott and called me, and I
had to make the best I could after Graham. That is the end of
the story, for there is nothing else worth saying. It was at the
dinner hour from 7 to 7|, and then I went home for a little quiet
Peel again replied upon me, but I did not hear that part of him;
and Disraeli showed the marvellous talent that he has, for sum-
ming up with brilliancy, buoyancy, and comprehensiveness at the
close of a debate. You have heard me speak of that talent before
when I have been wholly against him ; but never, last night or ati
any other time, would I go to him for conviction, but for the
delight of the ear and the fancy. What a long story !

During the parliament that sat from 1847 to 1852, Mt.
Gladstone's political life was in partial abeyance. The whole
burden of conducting the affairs of the Hawarden estate fell
upon him. For five years, he said, * it constituted my daily
and continuing care, while parliamentary action was onlj
occasional. It supplied in fact my education for the office
of finance minister.' The demands of church matters were

PARTIAL WITHDRAWAL 357

anxious and at times absorbing. He warmly favoured and CHAP,
spoke copiously for the repeal of the navigation laws. He ^ ^' ,
desired, however, to accept a recent overture from America ^j^ 37.^
which offered everything, even their vast coasting trade,
upon a footing of absolute reciprocity. * I gave notice,' he
says, 'of a motion to that effect. But the government
declined to accept it. I accordingly withdrew it. At this
the tories were much put about. I, who had thought of
things only and not taken persons into view, was surprised
at their surprise. It did not occur to me that by my public
notification I had given to the opposition generally some-
thing like a vested interest in my proposal. I certainly
should have done better never to have given my notice.
This is one of the cases illustrating the extreme slowness of
my political education.' The sentence about thinking of
things only and leaving persons out, indicates a turn of mind
that partly for great good, partly for some evil, never wholly
disappeared.

Yet partially withdrawn as he was from active life in the
House of Commons, Mr. Gladstone was far too acute an
observer to have any leanings to the delusive self-indulgence
of temporary retirements. To his intimate friend, Sir Walter
James, who seems to have nursed some such intention, he
wrote at this very time (Feb. 13, 1847) : —

The way to make parliament profitable is to deal with it as a
calling, and if it be a calling it can rarely be advantageous to
suspend the pursuit of it for years together with an uncertainty,
too, as to its resumption. You have not settled in the country,
nor got your other vocation open and your line clear before you.
The purchase of an estate is a very serious matter, which you may
not be able to accomplish to your satisfaction except after the
lapse of years. It would be more satisfactory to drop parliament
with another path open to you already, than in order to seek
about for one. ... I think with you that the change in the
position of the conservative party makes public life still more
painful where it was painful before, and less enjoyable, where it
was enjoyable ; but I do not think it remains less a duty to work
through the tornado and to influence for good according to our

358 PABTT EVOLUTION — NEW COLONIAL POLICY

BOOK means the new forms into which political combination may be

IIL ^

V ~^ J cast

1846-60. In 1848 Northcote speaks of Mr. Gladstone as the ' patron
saint ' of the coal-whippers, who, as a manifestation of their
gratitude for the Act which he had induced parliament to
pass for them, offered their services to put down the chartist
mob. Both Mr. Gladstone and his brother John served as
special constables during the troubled days of April. In his
diary he records on April 10, * On duty from 2 to 3| P.M.'

I

n

When Mr. Gladstone became colonial secretary at the end
of 1845, he was described as a strong accession to the pro-
gressive or theorising section of the cabinet — the men, that
is to say, who applied to the routine of government, as they
found it, critical principles and improved ideals. If the
church had been the first of Mr. Gladstone's commanding
interests and free trade the second, the turn of the colonies
came next. He had not held the seals of the colonial de-
partment for more than a few months, but to any business,
whatever it might be, that happened to kindle his imagina-
tion or work on his reflection, he never failed to bend his
whole strength. He had sat upon a committee in 1835-6
on native affairs at the Cape, and there he had come into
full view of the costly and sanguinary nature of that im-
portant side of the colonial question. Molesworth mentions
the 'prominent and valuable' part taken by him in the
committee on Waste Lands (1836). He served on committees
upon military expenditure in the colonies, and upon colonials
accounts. He was a member of the important committee o^
1840 on the colonisation of New Zealand, and voted in th^:^
minority for the draft report of the chairman, containin^=:
among other things the principle of the reservation of al-
unoccupied lands to the crown. ^ Between 1837 and 1841 b^ <«
spoke frequently on colonial affairs. When he was secretar ^
of state in 1846, questions arose upon the legal status cz>f
colonial clergy, full of knotty points as to which he wrot<?
1 Garnett*s Edvoard Gibbon Wakefield, p. 248. See also p. 232.

VIEWS OF COLONIAL GOVERNMENT 859

minutes ; questions upon education in penal settlements, and CHAP,
so forth, in which he interested himself, not seldom differing , ^ ,
from Stephen, the chief of the staff in the office. He com- ^2^, 87.41,
posed an argumentative despatch on the commercial relations
between Canada and the mother country, endeavouring to
wean the Canadian assembly from its economic delusions.
It was in effect little better than if written in water. He
made the mistake of sending out despatches in favour of
resuming on a limited scale the transportation of convicts to
Australia, a practice effectually condemned by the terrible
committee eight years before. Opinion in Australia was
divided, Robert Lowe leading the opposition,^ and the experi-
ment was vetoed by Mr. Gladstone's successor at the colonial
office. He exposed himself to criticism and abuse by recall-
ing a colonial governor for inefficiency in his post; im-
prudently in the simplicity of his heart he added to the
recall a private letter stating rumours against the governor's
personal character. These he had taken on trust from the
bishop of the diocese and others. The bishop left him in
the lurch ; the recall was one affair, the personal rumours
were another ; nimble partizanship confused the two, to the
disadvantage of the secretary of state ; the usual clatter that
attends any important personage in a trivial scrape ensued ;
Mr. Gladstone's explanations, simple and veracious as the
sunlight in their substance, were over-skilful in form, and
half a dozen blunt, sound sentences would have stood him
in far better stead. 'There was on my part in this matter,'
he says in a fugitive scrap upon it, ' a singular absence of
'vv'orldly wisdom.'^ To colonial policy at this stage I discern
no particular contribution, and the matters that I have
named are now well covered with the moss of kindly time.

Ahnost from the first he was convinced that some leading \
maxims of Downing Street were erroneous. He had,
irom his earliest parliamentary days, regarded our colonial
connection as one of duty rather than as one of advantage.
When he had only been four years in the House he took a

^ See The Gladstone Colony by J. F. Life, * Mr. Gladstone's Penal Colony.*

Hogan, M.P., with prefatory note ^ Stafford Northcote published an

^y Mr. Gladstone, April 20, 1897, effective vindication in a * Letter to a

and the chapter in Lord Sherbrooke's Friend,' 1847.

360 NEW COLONIAL POLICY

BOOK firm stand against pretensions in Canada to set their assembly
^ ^^^ J on an equal footing with the imperial parliament at home.^
1846-60 ^^ ^^ other hand, while he should always be glad to see
parliament inclined to make large sacrifices for the purpose
of maintaining the colonies, he conceived that nothing
could be more ridiculous, or more mistaken, than to suppose
that Great Britain had anything to gain by maintaining
that union in opposition to the deliberate and permanent
conviction of the people of the colonies themselves.*

He did not at all undervalue what he called the mere
political connection, but he urged that the root of such a
connection lay in the natural affection of the colonies for
the land from which they sprang, and tlieir spontaneous
/ desire to reproduce its laws and the spirit of its institutions.
Jl I From first to last he always declared the really valuable
y tie with a colony to be the moral and the social tie.^
The master key with him was local freedom, and he was
never weary of protest against the fallacy of what was called
'preparing ' these new communities for freedom : teaching a
colony, like an infant, by slow degrees to walk, first putting it
into long clothes, then into short clothes. A governing class
was reared up for the purposes which the colony ought to
fulfil itself ; and, as the climax of the evil, a great military
expenditure was maintained, which became a premium on
war. Our modern colonists, he said, after quitting the
mother country, instead of keeping their hereditary liberties,
go out to Australia or New Zealand to be deprived of these
liberties, and then perhaps, after fifteen or twenty or thirty
years' waiting, have a portion given back to them, with
magnificent language about the liberality of parliament in
conceding free institutions. During the whole of that
interval they are condemned to hear all the miserable
jargon about fitting them for the privileges thus conferred ;
while, in point of fact, every year and every month during
which they are retained under the administration of a««

1 Speech on affairs of Lower Canada, « See his evidence before a Selec-— ^

Mar. 8, 1837. Committee on Colonial Military Edr

^ On Government of Canada bill, penditure, June 6, 1861.
May 29, 1840.

THE TWO SCHOOLS 361

despotic government, renders them less fit for free institu-
tions. * No consideration of money ought to induce parlia-
ment to sever the connection between any one of the jsx. 87-41.
colonies and the mother country,' though it was certain
that the cost of the existing system was both large and
unnecessary. But the real mischief was not here, he said. /
Our error lay in the attempt to hold the colonies by they
mere exercise of power. ^ Even for the church in the colonies
he rejected the boon of civil preference as being undoubtedly
a fatal gift, — * nothing but a source of weakness to the church
herself and of discord and difficulty to the colonial com-
munities, in the soil of which I am anxious to see the
church of England take a strong and healthy root.'*
He acknowledged how much he had learned from Moles-,
worth's speeches,^ and neither of them sympathised with thel
opinion expressed by Mr. Disraeli in those days, * These I
wretched colonies will all be independent too in a few years,!
and are a millstone round our necks.' * Nor did Mr. Glad-r
stone share any such sentiments as those of Molesworth
who, in the Canadian revolt of the winter of 1837, actually
invoked disaster upon the British arms.^

In their views of colonial policy Mr. Gladstone was in sub-

^ See speech on Australian Colonies declare that I should more deplore

bill, June 26, 1849, Colonial Admin- success on the part of this country

istration, April 16, 1840, on the than defeat ; and though as an English

Australian Colonies, Feb. 8, 1850, citizen I could not but lament the

March 22, 1860, and May 13, 1850. disasters of my countrymen, still it

On the Kaffir War, April 5, 1852. would be to me a less poignant matter

On the New Zealand Grovemment of regret than a success which would

biU, May 21, 1852. Also speech on offer to the world the disastrous and

Scientific Colonisation before the St. disgraceful spectacle of a free and

>iartin in the Fields Association for mighty nation succeeding by force of

the Propagation of the Gospel in arms in putting down and tyrannising

Foreign Parts, March 27, 1849. over a free though feebler community

* On the Colonial Bishops bill, struggling in defence of its just rights.
April 28, 1852. . . . That our dominion in America

•Wakefield was their common should now be brought to a conclusion,

teacher. In a letter as secretary of I for one most sincerely desire, but I

state to Sir George Grey, then gov- desire it should terminate in peace and

emor of New Zealand (March 27), friendship. Great would be the ad-

1846, he states how the signal ability vantages of an amicable separation

of Wakefield and his devotion to every of the two countries, and great would

subject connected with the foundation be the honour this country would

of colonies has influenced him. reap in consenting to such a step.'

*To Lord Malmesbury, Aug. 13, Mr. Gladstone spoke the same even-

M2. Memoirs of an Ex-Minister, ing in an opposite sense. — Hans. 39,

bythe Earl of Malmesbury, i. p. 344. p. 1460, Dec. 22, 1837. Walpole,

* * Should a war take place, I must Hist, Eng., iii. p. 425.

362 NBW COLONIAL POLICY

BOOK stantial accord with radicals of the school of Cobden, Hume,
^ ^ J and Molesworth. He does not seem to have joined a reform-
1846-60. *^°S association founded by these eminent men among others
in 1850, but its principles coincided with his own : — local
'independence, an end of rule from Downing Street, the relief
of the mother country from the whole expense of the local
government of the colonies, save for defence from aggres-
sion by a foreign power. Parliament was, as a rule, so little
moved by colonial concerns that, according to Mr. Gladstone,
in nine cases out of ten it was impossible for the minister to
secure parliamentary attention, and in the tenth case it was
only obtained by the casual operations of party spirit. Lord
Glenelg's case showed that colonial secretaries were punished
when they got into bad messes, and his passion for messes
was punished, in the language of the journals of the day, by
the life of a toad under a harrow until he was worried out
of oflBce. There was, however, no force in public opinion to
prevent the minister from going wrong if he liked ; still less
/to prevent him from going right if he liked. Popular feeling
/ was coloured by no wish to give up the colonies, but people
( doubted whether the sum of three millions sterling a year
\ for colonial defence and half a million more for civil charges,
\ was not excessive, and they thought the return by no means
Xjommensurate with the outlay.^ In discussions on bills
effecting the enlargement of Australian constitutions, Mr.
Gladstone's views came out in clear contrast with the old
school. ' Spoke \\ hours on the Australian Colonies bill,' he
records (May 13, 1850), ' to an indifferent, inattentive House.
But it is necessary to speak these truths of colonial policy^
even to unwilling ears.' In the proceedings on the constitu^ —
tion for New Zealand, he delivered a speech justly describec^B
as a pattern of close argument and classic oratory.* Lor«:zl

^ See, for instance. Spectator, Jan. ment bill of 1852, with all its erroziB
17, 1845 ; Times, June 8, 1849. In and complications, was a grand step
1861 it was estimated that colonial in the recovery of our old coloniai
military expenditure was between policy ; but perhaps its chief contri-
three and four millions a year, about bution to the re-establishment of con-
nine-tenths of which was borne by stitutional views was Mr. Gladstone's
British taxpayers, and one-tenth by speech on its second reading.* — Rigbt
colonial contribution. Hon. C. B. Adderley, Beview of Eari

2 Edward Gibbon Wakefield, p. 331. Grey's Colonial Policy of Lord Jok%

The reader will find an extract in the MvsselVs Administratiotij p. 135.
Appendix. * The New Zealand Govern-

HIS WHOLB VIEW 868

John Russell, adverting to the concession of an elective chap.
chamber and responsible government, said that one by one ^ j

in this manner, all the shields of our authority were thrown ^^ 37-41.
away, and the monarchy was left exposed in the colonies
to the assaults of democracy. * Now I confess,' said Mr. Glad-
stone, in a counter minute, * that the nominated council and
the independent executive were, not shields of authority,
but sources of weakness, disorder, disunion, and disloyalty.' ^
His whole view he set out at Chester ^ a little later than
the time at which we now stand : —

. . . Experience has proved that if you want to strengthen the

connection between the colonies and this country — if you want to

see British law held in respect and British institutions adopted

and beloved in the colonies, never associate with them the hated

name of force and coercion exercised by us, at a distance, over

their rising fortunes. Govern them upon a principle of freedom.

Defend them against aggression from without. Regulate their

foreign relations. These things belong to the colonial connection.

But of the duration of that connection let them be the judges,

and I predict that if you leave them the freedom of judgment it

is hard to say when the day will come when they will wish to

separate from the great name of England. Depend upon it, they

covet a share in that great name. You will find in that feeling of

theirs the greatest security for the connection. Make the name

of England yet more and more an object of desire to the colonies.

Their natural disposition is to love and revere the name of England,

and this reverence is by far the best security you can have for

their continuing, not only to be subjects of the crown, not only

to render it allegiance, but to render it that allegiance which is the

most precious of all — the allegiance which proceeds from the depths

of the heart of man. You have seen various colonies, some of them

lying at the antipodes, offering to you their contributions to assist

in supporting the wives and families of your soldiers, the heroes

that have fallen in the war. This, I venture to say, may be said,

irithout exaggeration, to be among the first fruits of that system

^ See Mr. Gladstone's speech on and exaltation, one at Mold (Sept. 29,

introducing the Government of Ire- 185(?), and the other at Liverpool the

iand bill, April 8, 1886. same evening, both in support of

2 Nov. 12, 1856. See also two the claims of societies for foreign

speeches of extraordinary fervour missions.

364 NEW COLONIAL POLICY

upon which, within the last twelve or fifteen years, you have
founded a rational mode of administering the affairs of par
1846-60. colonies without gratuitous interference.

As I turn over these old minutes, memoranda, despatches,
speeches, one feels a curious irony in the charge engendered
by party heat or malice, studiously and scandalously carelen
of facts, that Mr. Gladstone's policy aimed at getting rid of
the colonies. As if any other policy than that which he w
ardently enforced could possibly have saved them.

in
In 1849 Mr. Gladstone was concerned in a painful incidest
that befel one of his nearest friends. Nobody of humane
feeling would now willingly choose either to speak or hear
of it, but it finds a place in books even to this day ; it has
been often misrepresented ; and it is so characteristic of Mr.
Gladstone, and so entirely to his honour, that it cannot be
wholly passed over. Fortunately a few sentences will suffice.
His friend's wife had been for some time travelling abroad,
and rumours by and by reached England of movements that
might be no more than indiscreet, but might be worse.
In consequence of these rumours, and after anxious con-
sultations between the husband and three or four important
members of his circle, it was thought best that some one
should seek access to the lady, and try to induce her to
place herself in a position of security. The further con-
clusion reached was that Mr. Gladstone and Manning were
the two persons best qualified by character and friendship
for this critical mission. Manning was unable to go, but
Mr. Gladstone at the earnest solicitation of his friend, and
also of his own wife who had long been much attached to
the person missing, set off alone for a purpose, as he con-
scientiously believed, alike friendly to both parties and in
the interests of both. I have called the proceeding character-
istic, for it was in fact exactly like him to be ready at the
call of friendship, and in the hope of preventing a terrible
disaster, cheerfully to undertake a duty detestable to any-
body and especially detestable to him ; and again, it was
like him to regard the affair with an optimistic simplicity

A PAINFUL INCIDENT 865

that made him hopeful of success, where to ninety-nine men CHAP,
of a hundred the thought of success would have seemed ^ ^^^' j
absurd. To no one was it a greater shock than to him when, jg^ 37^^
• after a journey across half Europe, he suddenly found him-
self the discoverer of what it was inevitable that he should
report to his friend at home. In the course of the subsequent
proceedings on the bill for a divorce brought into the House
of Lords, he was called as a witness to show that in this case
the person claiming the bill had omitted no means that
duty or affection could suggest for averting the calamity
with which his hearth was threatened. It was quite untrue,
as he had occasion to tell the House of Commons in 1857,
that he had anything whatever to do with the collection of
evidence, or that the evidence given by him was the evidence,
or any part of it, on which the divorce was founded. The
only thing to be added is the judgment of Sir Robert Peel
upon a transaction, with all the details of which he was
^particularly well acquainted : —

Aug. 26, 1849.

My Deab Gladstone, — I am deeply concerned to hear the
x-^sult of that mission which, with unparalleled kindness and
S"^nerosity, you imdertook in the hope of mitigating the affliction
o:f a friend, and conducing possibly to the salvation of a wife and
^xiiaother. Your errand has not been a fruitless one, for it affords
"tXie conclusive proof that everything that the forbearance and
^fc^nder consideration of a husband and the devotion of a friend
c^ould suggest as the means of averting the necessity for appealing
^ 0 the Law for such protection as it can afford, had been essayed
stnd essayed with the utmost delicacy. This proof is valuable so
:Car as the world and the world's opinion is concerned — much more
valuable as it respects the heart and conscience of those who have
"been the active agents in a work of charity. I can offer you
nothing in return for that which you undertook with the prompti-
tude of affectionate friendship, under circumstances which few
would not have considered a valid excuse if not a superior obliga-
tion, but the expression of my sincere admiration for truly virtuous
and generous conduct. — Ever, my dear Gladstone, most faithfully
yours, EoBEBT Peel.

CHAPTER IV

DEATH OF SIR ROBERT PEEL

{1850)

Famous men — whose merit it is to have joined their name to events
that were brought onwards by the coarse of things. — Paul-Locis

COUBIEB.

It was now that Lord Palmerston strode to a front place-
one of the two conspicuous statesmen with whom, at succes-
^^ sive epochs in his career, Mr. Gladstone found himself in
different degrees of energetic antagonism. This was all the
stiffer and more deeply rooted, for being in both cases as
much a moral antagonism as it was political. After a long
spell of peace, earnestness, and political economy, the nation
was for a time in a mood for change, and Palmerston con-
vinced it that he was the man for its mood. He had his full
share of shrewd common sense, yet was capable of infinite
recklessness. He was good-tempered and a man of bluff
cheerful humour. But to lose the game was intolerable,
and it was noticed that with him the next best thing to
success was quick retaliation on a victorious adversary — a
trait of which he was before long to give the world an
example that amused it. Yet he had no capacity for deep
and long resentments. Like so many of his class, he united
passion for public business to sympathy with social gaiety
and pleasure. Diplomatists found him firm, prompt, clean-
cut, but apt to be narrow, teasing, obstinate, a prisoner to his
own arguments, and wanting in the statesman's first quality
of seeing the whole and not merely the half. Metternich
described him as an audacious and passionate marksman,
ready to make arrows out of any wood. He was a sanguine
man who always believed what he desired ; a confident man

LOBD PALMBRSTON 367

^ho was sure that he must be right in whatever he chose to
fear. On the economic or the moral side of national life, in
the things that make a nation rich and the things that ^^[41,
make it scrupulous and just, he had only limited perception
and moderate faith. Where Peel was strong and penetrat-
ing, Palmerston was weak and purblind. He regarded
Bright and Cobden as displeasing mixtures of the bagman
and the preacher. In 1840 he had brought us within an ace
of war with France. Disputes about an American frontier
were bringing us at the same period within an ace of war
with the United States. When Peel and Aberdeen got
this quarrel into more promising shape, Palmerston char-
acteristically taunted them with capitulation. Lord Grey
refused help in manufacturing a whig government in Decem-
ber 1845, because he was convinced that at that moment
Palmerston at the foreign office meant an American war.
When he was dismissed by Lord John Russell in 1852 a
foreign ruler on an insecure throne observed to an English-
man, ' This is a blow to me, for so long as Lord Palmerston
remained at the foreign office, it was certain that you could
not procure a single ally in Europe.'

Yet all this policy of high spirits and careless dictatorial
temper had its fine side. With none of the grandeur of the
highest heroes of his school — of Chatham, Carteret, Pitt —
without a spark of their heroic fire or their brilliant and stead-
fast glow, Palmerston represented, not always in their best
form, some of the most generous instincts of his countrymen.
A follower of Canning, he was the enemy of tyrants and
foreign misrule. He had a healthy hatred of the absolutism
and reaction that were supreme at Vienna in 1815 ; and if
he meddled in many affairs that were no affairs of ours, at
least he intervened for freedom. The action that made him
I hated at Vienna and Petersburg won the confidence of his
I countrymen. They saw him in Belgium and Holland, Spain,
Italy, Greece, Portugal, the fearless champion of constitu-
tions and nationality. Of Aberdeen, who had been Peel's
foreign minister, it was said that at home he was a liberal
\fithout being an enthusiast ; abroad he was a zealot, in the
sense most opposed to Palmerston. So, of Palmerston it

868 DEATH OF SIB BOBBBT PBEL

BOOK could be said that he was conservative at home and revolu-
^__~_^ tionist abroad. If such a word can ever be applied to such
1860. ^ ^h^^gi ^s patriotism was sometimes not without a tinge of
vulgarity, but it was always genuine and sincere.

This masterful and expert personage was the ruling
member of the weak whig government now in oflSce, and
he made sensible men tremble. Still, said Graham to Peel,
^ it is a choice of dangers and evils, and I am disposed to
think that Palmerston and his foreign policy are less to be
dreaded than Stanley and a new corn law.'^ In a debate
of extraordinary force and range in the summer of 1850, the
two schools of foreign policy found themselves face to face.
Palmerston defended his various proceedings with remark-
able amplitude, power, moderation, and sincerity. He had
arrayed against him, besides Mr. Gladstone, the greatest
men in the House — Peel, Disraeli, Cobden, Graham, Bright -
but in his last sentence the undaunted minister struck a
note that made triumph in the division lobbies sure. For
five hours a crowded house hung upon his lips, and he then
wound up with a fearless challenge of a verdict on the ques-
tion, ' Whether, as the Roman in days of old held himself
free from indignity when he could say Oivis Momanus #um,
so also a British subject, in whatever land he may be, shall
feel confident that the watchful eye and the strong arm of
England will protect him against injustice and wrong?'

The Roman citizen was in this instance a Mediterranean
Jew who chanced to be a British subject. His house at
Athens had for some reason or other been sacked by the
mob; he presented a demand for compensation absurdly
fraudulent on the face of it. The Greek government refused
to pay. England despatched the fleet to collect this and
some other petty accounts outstanding. Russia and France
proposed their good oflftces; the mediation of France was
accepted ; then a number of Greek vessels were peremptorily
seized, and France in umbrage recalled her ambassador from
London. Well might Peel, in the last speech ever delivered
by him in the House of Commons, describe such a course of
action as consistent neither with the dignity nor the honour
1 Parker, Ui. p. 636.

DON PACIFICO 869

£ England. The debate travelled far beyond Don Pacifico,
nd it stands to this day as a grand classic exposition in
parliament of the contending views as to the temper and the ^,41.
)rinciples on which nations in our modern era should con-
iuct their dealings with one another.

It was in the Greek debate of 1850, which involved the censure
or acquittal of Lord Palmerston, that I first meddled in speech
with foreign affairs, to which I had heretofore paid the slightest
possible attention. Lord Palmerston's speech was a marvel for
physical strength, for memory, and for lucid and precise exposition
of his policy as a whole. A very curious incident on this occasion
evinced the extreme reluctance of Sir R. Peel to appear in any
ostensible relation with Disraeli. Voting with him was disagree-
able enough, but this with his strong aversion to the Palmerstonian
policy Peel could not avoid; besides which, it was known that
liord Palmerston would carry the division. Disraeli, not yet fully
recognised as leader of the protectionists, was working hard for
that position, and assumed the manners of it, with Beresford, a
kind of whipper-in, for his right-hand man. After the Palmerston
speech he asked me on the next night whether I would undertake
to answer it. I said that I was incompetent to do it, from want of
knowledge and otherwise. He answered that in that case he must
do it. As the debate was not to close that evening, this left
another night free for Peel when he might speak and not be in
Disraeli's neighbourhood. I told Peel what Disraeli had arranged.
He was very well satisfied. But, shortly afterwards, I received
from Disraeli a message through Beresford, that he had changed
his mind, and would not speak until the next and closing night,
'^hen Peel would have to speak also. I had to make known to
Peel this alteration. He received the tidings with extreme annoy-
ance : thinking, I suppose, that if the two spoke on the same side
^d in the late hours just before the division it would convey the
idea of some concert or co-operation between them, which it was
^^ident that he was most anxious to avoid. But he could not
^e]p himself. Disraeli's speech was a very poor one, almost like
^ * cross,' and PeePs was prudent but otherwise not one of his

1 Fragment of 1897.
VOL. I — 2 b

870 DBATH OF SIB BOBBBT PEEL

Mr. Gladstone had not in 1850 at all acquired such full
parliamentary ascendency as belonged to the hardy veteran
1850. confronting him ; still less had he such authority ss the
dethroned leader who sat by his side. Yet the House felt
that, in the image of an ancient critic, here was no cistern
of carefully collected rain-water, but the bounteous flow of
a living spring. It felt all the noble elevation of an orator
who transported them apart from the chicane of diplomatic
chanceries, above the narrow expediencies of the particukr
case, though of these too he proved himself a thoroughly
well-armed master, into a full view of the state system of
Europe and of the principles and relations on which the
fabric is founded. Now for the first time he made the
appeal, so often repeated by him, to the common senti-
ment of the civilised world, to the general and fixed con-
victions of mankind, to the principles of brotherhood among
nations, to their sacred independence, to the equality in
their rights of the weak with the strong. Such was his
language. * When we are asking for the maintenance of
the rights that belong to our fellow-subjects resident in
Greece,' he said, * let ?i» do as tee would be done by; let
us pay all respect to a feeble state and to the infancy of
free institutions, which we should desire and should exact
from others towards their authority and strength.' Mr.
Gladstone had not read history for nothing, he was not a
Christian for nothing. He knew the evils that followed in
Europe the breakdown of the 'great spiritual power — once,
though with so many defects, a controlling force over vio-
lence, anarchy, and brute wrong. He knew the necessity for
some substitute, even a substitute so imperfect as the law
of nations. 'You may call the rule of nations vague and
untrustworthy,' he exclaimed ; 'I find in it, on the contrary,
a great and noble monument of human wisdom, founded
on the combined dictates of sound experience, a precious
inheritance bequeathed to us by the generations that have
gone before us, and a firm foundation on which we must
take care to build whatever it may be our part to add to
their acquisitions, if indeed we wish to promote the peace
and welfare of the world.'

EXALTS THE LAW OP NATIONS 871

The government triumphed by a handsome majority, and CHAP.
Mr. Gladstone, as was his wont, consoled himself for present ^ ' j
lisappointment by hopes for a better future. ' The majority j^^ 4^^
>f the House of Commons, I am convinced,' he wrote to
Gruizot, then in permanent exile from power, ^ was with us
in heart and in conviction ; but fear of inconveniences attend-
ing the removal of a ministry which there is no regularly
Drganised opposition ready to succeed, carried the day
beyond all authoritative doubt, against the merits of the
particular question. It remains to hope that the demon-
stration which has been made may not be without its effect
upon the tone of Lord Palmerston's future proceedings.'

The conflict thus opened between Mr. Gladstone and Lord
Palmerston in 1860 went on in many changing phases, with
some curious vicissitudes and inversions. They were some-
times frank foes, occasionally partners in opposition, and for
a long while colleagues in office. Never at any time were
they in thought or feeling congenial.^

On the afternoon of the day following this debate. Peel
"Was thrown from his horse and received injuries from which
le died three days later (July 2), in the sixty-third year of his
age, and after forty-one years of parliamentary life. When
the House met the next day, Hume, as one of its oldest
inembers, at once moved the adjournment, and it fell to Mr.
Gladstone to second him. He was content with a few words
©f sorrow and with the quotation of Scott's moving lines to
the memory of Pitt : —

* Now is the stately column broke,
The beacon-light is quench 'd in smoke,
The trumpet's silver sound is still,
The warder silent on the hill 1 '

These beautiful words were addressed, said Mr. Gladstone,
*toaman great indeed, but not greater than Sir Robert Peel.'
* Great as he was to the last,' wrote Mr. Gladstone in one
of his notes in 1851, * I must consider the closing years of
lis life as beneath those that had preceded them. His
^onnous energies were in truth so lavishly spent upon the

^ ^Mr. Gladstone's Don Paclfico speech is still not quite out of date. —
^^t 27, Hansard, 1850.

872 DEATH OF SIB BOBBBT PEEL

gigantic work of government, which he conducted after a
fashion quite different, — I mean as to the work done in the
1860. workshop of his own brain, — from preceding and succeeding
prime ministers, that their root was enfeebled, though in its
feebleness it had more strength probably remaining than fell
to the lot of any other public man.'

Peel may at least divide with Walpole the laurels of our
greatest peace minister to that date — the man who presided
over beneficent and necessary changes in national polity, that
in hands less strong and less skilful might easily have opened
the sluices of civil confusion. And when we think of W al pole's
closing days, and of the melancholy end of most other ruling
spirits in our political history — of the mortifications and dis-
appointments in which, from Chatham and Pitt down to
Canning and O'Connell, they have quitted the glorious field
— Peel must seem happy in the manner and moment of his
death. Daring and prosperous legislative exploits had
marked his path. His authority in parliament never stood
higher, his honour in the country never stood so high. Hii
last words had been a commanding appeal for temperance
in national action and language, a solemn plea for peace a;^
the true aim to set before a powerful people.

To his father Mr. Gladstone wrote : —

July 2, 1850. — I thought Sir R. Peel looked extremely feeble
during the debate last week. I mean as compared with what
he usually is. I observed that he slept during much of Lord
Palmerston's speech, that he spoke with little physical energy,
and next day, Saturday, in the forenoon I thought he looked verj
ill at a meeting which, in common with him, I had to attend
This is all that I know and that is worth telling on a subject
which is one of deep interest to all classes, from the Queen down-
wards. I was at the palace last night and she spoke to me with
great earnestness about it. As to the division I shall say little; it
is an unsatisfactory subject. The majority of the government
was made up out of our ranks, partly by people staying away and
partly by some twenty who actually voted with the governniBnt
By far the greater portion, I am sorry to say, of both sets of
persons were what are called Peelites, and not protectionistai

QUESTIONS OF LEADERSHIP 373

The fact is, that if all calling themselves liberal be put on one CHAP,
side, and all calling themselves conservatives on the other, the y ' ^
House of Commons is as nearly as possible equaUy divided. je^^ 4^

I have already described how Mr. Gladstone thought it a

great mistake in Peel to resist any step that might put upon

the protectionists the responsibilities of office. In a note

composed a quarter of a century later (1876), he says :

* This I think was not only a safe experiment (after 1848)

but a vital necessity. I do not, therefore, think, and I did

not think, that the death of Sir R. Peel at the time when it

occurred was a great calamity so far as the chief question

of our internal politics was concerned. In other respects it

was indeed great ; in some of them it may almost be called

immeasurable. The moral atmosphere of the House of

Commons has never since his death been quite the same,

and is now widely different. He had a kind of authority

there that was possessed by no one else. Lord John might

in some respects compete with, in some even excel, him ; but

to him, as leader of the liberals, the loss of such an opponent

was immense. It is sad to think what, with his high mental

force and noble moral sense, he might have done for us in

after years. Even the afterthought of knowledge of such a

4 man and of intercourse with him, is a high privilege and a

! precious possession.'

> An interesting word or two upon his own position at this
f season occur in a letter to his father (July 9, 1850) : —

I The letter in which you expressed a desire to be informed by

J me, so far as I might be able to speak, whether there was anything

. } in the rumours circulated with regard to my becoming the leader

i in parliament of the conservative party^ did not come to my hands

until yesterday. The fact is, that there is nothing whatever in

those rumours beyond mere speculation on things supposed

probable or possible, and they must pass for what they are worth

in that character only. People feel, I suppose, that Sir Robert

PeePs life and continuance in parliament were of themselves

powerful obstacles to the general reorganisation of the conservative

party, and as there is great annoyance and dissatisfaction with the

present state of things, and a widely spread feeling that it is not

874 DEATH OF SIB ROBEBT PEEL

BOOK conducive to the public interests, there arises in men's minds an
^ expectation that the party will be in some manner reconstituted.
1850. I share in the feeling that it is desirable; but I see very great
difficulties in the way, and do not at present see how they are to
be effectually overcome. The House of Commons is almost
equally divided, indeed, between those professing liberal and those
professing conservative politics ; but the late division [Don
Pacifico] showed how ill the latter could hang together, even when
all those who had any prominent station among them in any sense
were united. . . .

Cornewall Lewis wrote, * Upon Gladstone the death of Peel
will have the effect of removing a weight from a spring — he
will come forward more and take more part in discussion.
The general opinion is that Gladstone will renounce his
free trade opinions, and become leader of the protectionists.
I expect neither the one event nor the other. '^ More inter-
esting still is something told by the Duke of Buccleuch.
*Very shortly,' said the duke in 1851, 'before Sir Robert
Peel's death, he expressed to me his belief that Sidney
Herbert or Gladstone would one day be premier ; but Peel^
said with sarcasm. If the hour comes, Disraeli must b^
made governor-general of India. He will be a seconc^
EUenborough.' *

1 LeUers, p. 226. > Dean Boyle's BecoUections, p. 32.

CHAPTER V

GOBHAM CASE — SECESSION OF FBIENDS

{1847-1851)

It is not by the State that man can be regenerated, and the terrible
woes of this darkened world effectually dealt with. — Gladstoxb
(1894).

The test case of toleration at the moment of the Oxford chap.
election of 1847 was the admission of the Jews to sit in ^ ^' j
parliament, and in the last month of 1847 Mr. Gladstone j^ 33^
astonished his father, as well as a great host of his political
suppoilers, by voting with the government in favour of the
removal of Jewish disabilities. No ordinary degree of moral
* courage was needed for such a step by the member for such
a constituency. * It is a painful decision to come to,' he
writes in his diary (Dec. 16), *but the only substantive doubt
it raises is about remaining in parliament, and it is truly and
only the church which holds me there, though she may seem
^ some to draw me from it.' Pusey wrote to him in rather
violent indignation, for Mr. Gladstone was the only man of
^iiat school who learned, or was able to learn, what the
Hiodern state is or is going to be. This was the third
phase, so Gladstone argued, of an irresistible movement,
file tory party had fought first for an anglican parlia-
ment, second they fought for a protestant parliament,
and now they were fighting for a Christian parliament.
Parliament had ceased to be anglican and it had ceased
to be protestant, and the considerations that supported
these two earlier operations thenceforth condemned the
exclusion from full civil rights of those who were not
Christians. To his father he explained (December 17,
1847) : * After much consideration, prolonged indeed I may

376

876 GOBHAH CASB

say for the last two years and a half, I made up my mind
to support Lord John Russell's bill for the admission of
1847. ^^^ Jews. I spoke to this effect last night. It is with
reluctance that I give the vote, but I am convinced that
after the civil privileges we have given them already
(including the magistracy and the franchise), and after the
admission we have already conceded to unitarians who
refuse the whole of the most vital doctrines of the Gospel,
we cannot compatibly with entire justice and fairness
refuse to admit them.'

His father, who was sometimes exacting, complained of
concealment. Mr. Gladstone replied that he regarded the
question as one of diflftculty, and he therefore took as much
time as he possibly could for reflection upon it, though he
never intended to run it as close as it actually came. ^ I know,'
he says, in a notable sentence, ^ it seems strange to you that I
should find it necessary to hold my judgment in suspense on
a question which seemed to many so plain ; but stispeiue is
of constant occurrence in public life upon very many hinds
of questions^ and without it errors and inconsistencies would
be much more frequent than even they are now,' This did
not satisfy his father. ' I shall certainly read your speech
to find some fair apology for your vote : good and satisfac-
tory reason I do not expect. I cannot doubt you thought
you withheld your opinions from me under the undecided
state you were in, without any intention whatever to annoy
me. There is, however, a natural closeness in your disposi-
tion, with a reserve towards those who may think they may
have some claim to your confidence, probably increased
by official habits, which it may perhaps in some cases b»
worth your inquiring into.' The sentence above about sus-
pense is a key to many misunderstandings of Mr. Gladstone's
character. His stouthearted friend Thomas Acland had
warned him, for the sake of his personal influence, to be
sure to deal with the Jew question on broad grounds, with-
out refining, and without dragging out some recondite view
not seen by common men, 'in short, to be as little 09
possible like Maurice^ and more like the Duke of Wellington,'
'My speech,' Mr. Gladstone answered, 'was most unsatis-

JEWISH DISABILITIES 877

actory in many ways, but I do not believe that it mystified CHAP.
>r puzzled anybody.' ^ ' ,

The following year he received the honour of a D.C.L. jEfr.SS.
legree at Oxford. Mrs. Gladstone was there, he tells bis
Father, and ' was well satisfied with my reception, though it
Ls not to be denied that my vote upon the Jew bill is upon
the whole unpalatable there, and they had been provoked
by a paragraph in the 0-lobe newspaper stating that I was
to have the degree, and that this made it quite clear that
the minority was not unfavourable to the Jew bill.'

Jubj 5. — I went off after breakfast to Oxford. Joined the V.-C.
and doctors in the hall at Wadham, and went in procession to
the Divinity schools provided with a white neckcloth by Sir R.
Inglis, who seized me at the station in horror and alarm when he
saw me with a black one. In due time we were summoned to
the theatre where my degree had been granted with some rum
placets but with no scrutiny. The scene remarkable to the eye
and mind, so pictorial and so national. There was great tumult
about me, the hisses being obstinate, and the faiUores also very
generous. 'Gladstone and the Jew bill' came sometimes from
the gallery, sometimes more favouring sounds.

n

After the whig government was formed in 1846, Mr.
Gladstone expressed himself as having little fear that they
could do much harm, 'barring church patronage.' He was
soon justified in his own eyes in this limitation of his con-
fidence, for the next year Dr. Hampden was made a bishop.^
This was a rude blow both to the university which had
eleven years before pronounced him heretical, and to the
bishops who now bitterly and fervidly remonstrated. Grave
points of law were raised, but Mr. Gladstone, though
warmly reprobating the prime minister's recommendation
of a divine so sure to raise the hurricane, took no leading
part in the strife that followed. * Never in my opinion,'
ke said to his father (Feb. 2, 1848), * was a firebrand more
^^tonly and gratuitously cast.' It was an indication the
1 See above, p. 167.

378 QOBHAM CASE

more of a determination to substitute a sort of general
religion for the doctrines of the church. The next really
1850. uiarking incident after the secession of Newman was a
decision of a court of law, known as the Gorham judgment
This and the preferment of Hampden to his bishopric pro-
duced the second great tide of secession. *Were we to-
gether,' Mr. Gladstone writes to Manning at the end of 1849
(December 80), ' I should wish to converse with you from
sunrise to sunset on the Gorham case. It is a stupendous
issue. Perhaps they will evade it. On abstract grounds this
would be still more distasteful than a decision of the state
against a catholic doctrine. But what I feel is that as a
body we are not ready yet for the last alternatives. More
years must elapse from the secession of Newman and the
group of secessions which, following or preceding, belonged
to it. A more composed and settled state of the public
mind in regard to our relations with the church of Rome
must supervene. There must be more years of faithful work
for the church to point to in argument, and to grow into
her habits. And besides all these very needful conditions
of preparation for a crisis, I want to see the question more
fully answered. What will the state of its own free and gooi
will do, or allow to be done, for the church while yet in
alliance with it ? '

The Gorham case was this : a bishop refused to institute
a clergyman to a vicarage in the west of England, on the
ground of unsound doctrine upon regeneration by baptism.
The clergyman sought a remedy in the ecclesiastical court
of Arches. The judge decided against him. The case then
came on appeal before the judicial committee of the prin
council, and here a majority with the two archbishops as asses-
sors reversed the decision of the court below. The bishop,
one of the most combative of the human race, flew to West-
minster Hall, tried move upon move in queen^s bench,
exchequer, common pleas ; declared that his archbishop had
abused his high commission ; and even actually renouncei
communion with him. But the sons of Zeruiah were too
hard. The religious world in both of its two standing camp*
was convulsed, for if Gorham had lost the day it would

THE JUDGMENT 379

ir might have meant the expulsion from the establishment CHAP.
)f calvinists and evangelicals bag and baggage. 'I am old ^^ ' j
mough,' said the provost of Oriel, 'to remember three ^x.4l.
baptismal controversies, and this is the first in which one
[)arty has tried to eject the other from the church.' On the
jther hand the sacramental wing found it intolerable that
fundamental doctrines of the church should be settled under
the veil of royal supremacy, by a court possessed of no dis-
tinctly church character.

The judgment was declared on March 8 (1850), and

Manning is made to tell a vivid story about going to Mr.

Gladstone's house, finding him ill with influenza, sitting down

by his bedside and telling him what the court had done ;

whereon Mr. Gladstone started up, threw out his arms and

exclaimed that the church of England was gone unless it

reUeved itself by some authoritative act. A witty judge

once observed in regard to the practice of keeping diaries,

that it was wise to keep diary enough at any rate to prove j

an alibi. According to Mr. Gladstone's diary he was not laid

up until several days later, when he did see various people,

Manning included, in his bedroom. On the black day of the

judgment, having dined at the palace the night before, and

having friends to dine with him on this night, he records a

busy day, including a morning spent after letter-writing, in

discussion with Manning, Hope, and others on the Gorham

case and its probable consequences. This slip of memory in

the cardinal is trivial and not worth mentioning, but perhaps

it tends to impair another vivid scene described on the same

authority ; how thirteen of them met at Mr. Gladstone's

house, agreed to a declaration against the judgment, and

proceeded to sign; how Mr. Gladstone, standing with his

^k to the fire, began to demur; and when pressed by

Manning to sign, asked him in a low voice whether he

*^ought that as a privy councillor he ought to sign such a

protest ; and finally how Manning, knowing the pertinacity

ol hig character, turned and said : We will not press him

fiirther.^ This graphic relation looks as if Mr. Gladstone

^ere leaving his friends in the lurch. None of them ever

1 Purcell, Manning, i. pp. 528-^.

380

GOBHAM CA8B

BOOK
IIL

ISiiO.

said so, none of them made any signa of thinking so. Tke
is no evidence that Mr. Gladstone ever agreed to iheraoli-
tion at all, and there is even evidence that points pn-
sumptively the other way : that he was taking a line of !■
own, and arguing tenaciously against all the rest forddij.'
Mr. Gladstone was often enough in a hurry himself, i*
there never was a man in this world more resolute tgiiMt
being hurried by other people.*

We need not, however, argue probabilities. Mr. GUdstoK
no sooner saw the story than he pronounced it fictaon. b
a letter to the writer of the book on Cardinal Manning (J*
14, 1896) he says: —

I read with surprise Manning's statement (made first ite
35 years) that I would not sign the declaration of 18o0 beoiM
I * was a privy councillor.' I should not have been more •»■
prised had he written that I told him I could not sign becuse^
name began with G. I had done stronger things than that via
I was not only privy councillor but official servant of the cwni
nay, 1 believe cabinet minister. The declaration was lisU^ ^
many interior objections. Seven out of the thirteen who signal
did so without (I believe) any kind of sequeL I wish y(»*
know that 1 entirely disavow and disclaim Manning's stateoetf^
as it stands. And here I have to ask you to insert two lines i»
your second or next edition; with the simple statement thst^
prepared and published with promptitude an elaborate argnmfiB^

I 5L.-.-

tit i
b?r.c:i

lilL -■".

^ See J. R. Hope^s letter (undated)
in Purcell, i. p. 630.

* On March 13, Hope writes to Mr.
Gladstone from 14 Curzon Street : —
*Keble and Pusey have been with
me to-day, and the latter has sug-
gested some alterations in the resolu-
tions ; I have taken upon me to
propose a meeting at your house at
I before 10 to-morrow morning. If
you cannot or do not wish to be present,
I do not doubt you will at any rate
allow me the use of your rooms.*
The meeting seems to have taken
place, for the entry on March 14 in
Mr. Gladstone's diary is this: —
*Hope, Badeley, Talbot, Cavendish,
Denison, Dr. Pusey, Keble, Bennett,
here from 0} to 12 on the draft of the
resolutions. Badeley again in the
evening. On the whole I resolved to

try some immediate effort* T^
would appear to be the last mtt^atr
and Manning is not named as praieii^
On the 18th: — 'Drs. Mill, Posef'
etc., met here in the evening, I vt^
not with them.* On the same dij
Mr. Gladstone had written to tfc^
Rev. W. Maskell, • As respects my^
self, I do not intend to pmsoe ^i^
consideration of them with those wlic^
meet to-night, first, becanse tb^
pressure of other business has becoin^
very heavy upon me, and waso&W
and mainly, because I do not cob^
sider that the time for any enonda^
tion of a character pointing to olt^'
mate issues will have arrived noti'
the Gorfaam judgment shall bare
taken effect.* No later meeting is
ever mentioned.

SXOITING EPFBCT OF THE JUDGMENT 881

to sliow that the judicial committee was historically unconsti-
tutional, as an organ for the decision of ecclesiastical questions.
This declaration was entitled, I think, *A Letter to the Bishop of jet. 41.
Loixcion on the Ecclesiastical Supremacy.' If I recollect right,
whil« it dealt little with theology, it was a more pregnant pro-
duction than the declaration, and it went much nearer the mark.
It Ixas been repeatedly published, and is still on sale at Murray's.
I axn glad to see that Sidney Herbert (a gentleman if ever there
was one) also declined to sign. It seems to me now, that there is
something almost ludicrous in the propounding of such a congeries
of statements by such persons as we were; not the more, but
certainly not the less, because of being privy councillors.

It was a terrible time ; aggravated for me by heavy cares and
responsibilities of a nature quite extraneous : and far beyond all
otliers by the illness and death of a much-loved child, with great
anxieties about another. My recollections of the conversations
before the declaration are little but a mass of confusion and
bewilderment. I stand only upon what I did. No one of us, I
think, understood the actual position, not even our lawyers, until
Baron Alderson printed an excellent statement on the points
raised.^

Ill

For long the new situation filled his mind. *The case of the
church of England at this moment,' he wrote to Lord Lyttel-
ton, ' is a very dismal one, and almost leaves men to choose
between a broken heart and no heart at all. But at present it
is all dark or only twilight which rests upon our future.' He
busily set down thoughts upon the supremacy. He studied
Cawdry's case, and he mastered Lord Coke's view of the law.
He feels better pleased with the Reformation in regard to the
supremacy ; but also much more sensible of the drifting of
the church since, away from the range of her constitutional
securities; and more than ever convinced how thoroughly
false is the present position. As to himself and his own
work in life, in reply I suppose to something urged by
Manning, he says (April 29, 1850), ' I have two characters

^Purccll professed to rectify the that Mr. Gladstone disavowed the
matter in tlie fourth edition, i. p. original story.
^, but the reader is nowhere told

882 GOBHAM CA8B

BOOK to fulfil — that of a lay member of the church, and that of i
, ^^' J member of a sort of wreck of a political party. I must no
1860. break my understood compact with the last, and forswea
my profession, unless and until the necessity has arisen
That necessity will plainly have arisen for me when it shal
have become evident that justice cannot, %,e.^ will not, b
done by the state to the church.' With boundless exalta
tion of spirit he expatiated on the arduous and noble tasl
which it was now laid upon the children of the church c
England amid trouble, suspense, and it might be even agon
to perform. ' Fully believing that the death of the churc
of England is among the alternative issues of the Gorhai
case,' he wrote to a clerical friend (April 9), 'I yet als
believe that all Christendom and all its history have rarel;
afforded a nobler opportunity of doing battle for the faith ij
the church than that now offered to English churchmen
That opportunity is a prize far beyond any with which th
days of her prosperity, in any period, can have been adorned.
He does not think (June 1, 1850), that a loftier work wa
ever committed to men. Such vast interests were at stake
such unbounded prospects open before them. What the]
wanted was the divine art to draw from present terribl
calamities and appalling future prospects the conquerin;
secret to rise through the struggle into something bette
than historical anglicanism, which essentially depended o
conditions that have passed away. 'In my own case,' h
says to Manning a little later, * there is work ready to m
hand and much more than enough for its weakness, a gre^i
mercy and comfort. But I think I know what my cours
would be, were there not. It would be to set to work upoi
the holy task of clearing, opening, and establishing positive
truth in the church of England, which is an office doublj
blessed, inasmuch as it is both the business of truth, and
the laying of firm foundations for future union in Christen-
dom.' If this vision of a dream had ever come to pass,
perhaps Europe might have seen the mightiest Christiat
doctor since Bossuet ; and just as Bossuet's struggle wa
called the grandest spectacle of the seventeenth century, s<
to many eyes this might have appeared the greatest of th

VIEW OF THB CRISIS IN THE CHURCH 883

nineteenth. Mr. Gladstone did not see, in truth he never saw,
g^j more than Bossuet saw in his age, that the Time-Spirit
"^as shifting the foundations of the controversy. However j^^^i^
that may be, the interesting thing for us in the history of his
Xife is the characteristic blaze of battle that this case now
kindled in his breast.

On the eve of his return from Germany in the autumn of
1845, one of his letters to Mrs. Gladstone reveals the pressing
intensity of his conviction, deepened by his intercourse with
the grave and pious circles at Munich and at Stuttgart, of
the supreme interest of spiritual things : —

In my wanderings my thoughts too have had time to travel;
and I have had much conversation upon church matters first at
Munich and since coming here with Mrs. Craven and some connec-
tions of hers staying with her, who are Roman catholics of a high
school. All that I can see and learn induces me more and more to
feel what a crisis for religion at large is this period of the world's
history — how the power of religion and its permanence are bound
up with the church — how inestimably precious would be the
church's unity, inestimably precious on the one hand, and on
the other to human eyes immeasurably remote — lastly how loud,
how solemn is the call upon all those who hear and who can obey
it, to labour more and more in the spirit of these principles, to
give themselves, if it may be, clearly and wholly to that work.
It is dangerous to put indefinite thoughts, instincts, longings,
into language which is necessarily determinate. I cannot trace
the line of my own future life, but I hope and pray it may not
always be where it is. . . . Ireland, Ireland! that cloud in
I the west, that coming storm, the minister of God's retribu-
[ tion upon cruel and inveterate and but half-atoned injustice!
/■ Ireland forces upon us those great social and great religious
i questions — God grant that we may have courage to look them in
the face, and to work through them. Were they over, were the
path of the church clear before her, as a body able to take her
trial before God and the world upon the performance of her work
as His organ for the recovery of our coimtry — how joyfully would
I retire from. the barren, exhausting strife of merely political con-
tention. I do not think that you would be very sorrowful ? As

884 GOBHAM CASB

BOOK to ambition in its ordinary sense, we are spared the chief part of
y its temptations. If it has a valuable reward upon earth over and

1851. ^bove a good name, it is when a man is enabled to bequeath to
his children a high place in the social system of his country.
That cannot be our case. The days are gone by when such a
thing might have been possible. To leave to Willy a title with
its burdens and restraints and disqualifications, but without the
material substratum of wealth, and the duties and means of good,
as well as the general power attending it, would not I think be
acting for him in a wise and loving spirit — assuming, which may
be a vain assimiption, that the alternative could ever be before us.

The fact that in Scotland, a country in which Mr. Gladstone
passed so much time and had such lively interests, the
members of his own episcopal church were dissenters, was
well fitted to hasten the progress of his mind in the liberal
direction. Certain it is that in a strongly-written letter to
a Scotch bishop at the end of 1851, Mr. Gladstone boldly
enlarged upon the doctrine of religious freedom, with a
directness that kindled both alarm and indignation among
some of his warmest friends.^ Away, he cried, with the
servile doctrine that religion cannot live but by the aid of
parliaments. When the state has ceased to bear a definite
and full religious character, it is our interest and our duty
alike to maintain a full religious freedom. It is this plenary
religious freedom that brings out in full vigour the internal
energies of each communion. Of all civil calamities the
greatest is the mutilation, under the seal of civil authority,
of the Christian religion itself. One fine passage in this
letter denotes an advance in his political temper, as remark-
able as the power of the language in which it finds expres-
sion : —

It is a great and noble secret, that of constitutional freedom,
which has given to us the largest liberties, with the steadiest
throne and the most vigorous executive in Christendom. I confess
to my strong faith in the virtue of this principle. I have lived

^ Letter to the Bight Bev. William Also Letter to Mr. Gladstone on this

Skinner^ Bishop of Aberdeen and letter by Charles Wprdsworth, the

Primus^ on the functions of laymen in Warden of Glenalmond. Oxford.

the Church, Tepvintod in Gleanings,yU J. H. Parker, 1S52.

FOUNDATIONS OF LIBERALISM 385

ow for many yeaxs in the midst of the hottest and noisiest of its CHAP,
rorkshops, and have seen that amidst the clatter and the din , * ^
. ceaseless labour is going on; stubborn matter is reduced to ,a^r.42.
)bedience, and the brute powers of society like the fire, air, water,
ind mineral of nature are, with clamour indeed but also with
might, educated and shaped into the most refined and regular
forms of usefulness for man. I am deeply convinced that among
us all systems, whether religious or political, which rest on a
principle of absolutism, must of necessity be, not indeed tyrannical,
but feeble and ineffective systems; and that methodically to
enlist the members of a community, with due regard to their
BCYeral capacities, in the performance of its public duties, is the
way to make that community powerful and healthful, to give a
firm seat to its rulers, and to engender a warm and intelligent
devotion in those beneath their sway.*

These were the golden trumpet-notes of a new time.
Wlien they reached the ears of old Dr. Routh, as he sat
in wig and cassock among his books and manuscripts at
Magdalen, revolving nearly a hundred years of mortal life,
he exclaimed that he had heard enough to be quite sure
that no man holding such opinions as these could ever
he a proper member for the university of Oxford. A few
nionths later, it was seen how the learned man found several
hundreds of unlearned to agree with him.

IV

This chapter naturally closes with what was to Mr.
Gladstone one of the dire catastrophies of his life. With
growing dismay he had seen Manning drawing steadily to-
^'ards the edge of the cataract. When he took the ominous
*tep of (quitting his charge at Lavington, Mr. Gladstone wrote
to him from Naples (January 26, 1851) : ' Without descrip-
tion from you, I can too well comprehend what you have
^UflFered. . . . Such griefs ought to be sacred to all men, they
^ust be sacred to me, even did they not touch me sharply with
reflected sorrow. You can do nothing that does not reach
Je, considering how long you have been a large part both

1 Gleanings, vi. p. 17.
VOL. I — 2c

886 SECESSION OF FBIENDS

of my actual life and of my hopes and reckonings. ShooU

you do the act which I pray God with my whole sod j<m

^g^^ may not do, it will not break, however it may impair or stnin,

the bonds between us.' ' If you go over,' he says, in another

letter of the same month, ^ I should earnestly pray that joo

might not be as others who have gone before you, bat migb

carry with you a larger heart and mind, able to raise andke^

you above that slavery to a system, that exaggeration of iti

forms, that disposition to rivet every shackle tighter and to

stretch every breach wider, which makes me mournfully td

that the men who have gone from the church of EngknJ

after being reared in her and by her, are far more keen, anl

I must add, far more cruel adversaries to her, than were the

mass of those whom they joined.'

In the case of Hope there had been for some considerable
time a lingering sense of change. ' My affection for him.
during these later years before his change, was I may almost
say intense : there was hardly anything I think which he
could have asked me to do, and which I would not have done.
But as I saw more and more through the dim light what was
to happen, it became more and more like the affection felt
for one departed.' Hope, he says, was not one of those
shallow souls who think that such a relation can continoe
after its daily bread has been taken away. At the end of
March he enters in his diary : * Wrote a paper on Manning's
question and gave it him. He smote me to the ground by
announcing with suppressed emotion that he is now upon
the brink, and Hope too. Such terrible blows not only over-
set and oppress but, I fear, demoralise me.' On the same day
in April 1851, Manning and Hope were received together
into the Roman church. Political separations, though these
too have their pangs, must have seemed to Mr. Gladstone
trivial indeed, after the tragic severance of such a fellowship
as this had been.

* They were my two props,' he wrote in his diary the neit
day. * Their going may be to me a sign that my work is gone
with them. . . . One blessing I have : total freedom from
doubts. These dismal events have smitten, but not shaken.'
The day after that, he made a codicil to his will striking out

I

MANNING AND HOPS 60 OYEB 387

Hope as executor, and substituting Northcote. Friendship CHAP.
did not die, but only lived * as it lives between those who ^ ^' ^
uihabit separate worlds.' Communication was not severed ; je^t. 42.
social intercourse was not avoided; and both on occasions
in life, the passing by of which, as Hope-Scott said, would
be a loss to friendship, and on smaller opportunities, they
corresponded in terms of the old aflfection. QviB desiderio
is Mr. Gladstone's docket on one of Hope's letters, and in
another (1858) Hope communicates in words of tender feel-
ing the loss of his wife, and the consolatory teachings of the
faith that she, like himself, had embraced ; and he recalls to
Mr. Gladstone that the root of their friendship which struck
the deepest was fed by a common interest in religion.^

In Manning's case the wound cut deeper, and for many
years the estrangement was complete.^ To Wilberforce, the
archdeacon, Mr. Gladstone wrote (April 11, 1851): —

I do indeed feel the loss of Manning, if and as far as I am
capable of feeling anything. It comes to me cumulated, and
doubled, with that of James Hope. Nothing like it can ever
happen to me again. Arrived now at middle life, I never can
form I suppose with any other two men the habits of communi-
cation, counsel, and dependence, in which I have now for from
fifteen to eighteen years lived with them both. . . . My intellect
does deliberately reject the grounds on which Manning has pro-
ceeded. Indeed they are such as go far to destroy my confidence,
which was once and far too long at the highest point, in the
healthiness and soundness of his. To show that at any rate this
is not from the mere change he has made, I may add, that my
conversations with Hope have not left any corresponding im-
pression upon my mind with regard to him.

A wider breach was this same year made in his inmost
circle. In April of the year before a little daughter, between
four and five years old, had died, and was buried at Fasque.

!

fc * In 1868 Mr. Gladstone urged him among those who think that Scott

; to produce an abridged version of still deserves to be remembered, not

j^ Lockhart's Life of Scott. Then Hope as an author only, but as a noble and

k- found that his father-in-law's own vigorous man.'

I abridgment was unknown; and (1871) ^ pj-om 1853 to 1861 they did not

¥ asks Mr. Gladstone's leave to dedi- correspond nor did they even meet,
cate a reprint of it to him as * one

388 SECESSION OF FBISHDB

The illness was long and painfol, and Mr. Gladstone bore b
part in the nursing and watching. He was tenderly foodoE
IS51. ^ little children, and the sorrow had a peculiar bitterneft
It was the first time that death entered his married home.

When he returned to Fasque in the autumn he found
that his father had taken ^a decided step, nay a stride, m
old age ' ; not having lost any of his interest in poUtics, bok
grown quite mild. The old man was nearing his eightj-
seventh year. * The very wreck of his powerful and ample
nature is full of grandeur. . . . ]Mischief is at work upoi
his brain — that indefatigable brain which has had to stud
all the wear and pressure of his long life.^ In the spring
of 1851 he finds him * very like a spent cannon-ball, wi4
a great and sometimes almost frightful energy renudmng
in him : though weak in comparison with what he was, he
hits a very hard knock to those who come across tim.*
When December came, the veteran was taken seriouslj ill
and the hope disappeared of seeing him even reach lis
eighty-seventh birthday (Dec. 11). On the 7th he died. A«
Mr. Gladstone wrote to Phillimore, ' though with little left
either of sight or hearing, and only able to walk from oM
room to another or to his brougham for a short drive, thoi^
his memory was gone, his hold upon language even to
common purposes imperfect, the reasoning power muca
decayed, and even his perception of personality rather indifl^
tinct, yet so much remained about him as one of the m(rf
manful, energetic, affectionate, and simple-hearted among
human beings, that he still filled a great space to the eye,
mind, and heart, and a great space is accordingly left voii
by his withdrawal.' 'The death of my father,' Mr. Glad-
stone wrote to his brother John, ' is the loss of a great object
of love, and it is the shattering of a great bond of unio^'
Among few families of five persons will be found difference*
of character and opinion to the same aggregate amount as
among us. We cannot shut our eyes to this fact; bj
opening them, I think we may the better strive to prevent
such differences from begetting estrangement.'

CHAPTER VI

NAPLES

(^1850-1851)

It would be amusing, if the misfortunes of mankind ever conld be
so, to hear the pretensions of the government here [Naples] to mild-
ness and clemency, because it does not put men to death, and confines
itself to leaving six or seven thousand state prisoners to perish in
dungeons. I am ready to believe that the king of Naples is
naturally mild and kindly, but he is afraid, and the worst of all
tyrannies is the tyranny of cowards. — Tocqueville [I860].

In the autumn of 1850, with the object of benefiting the
eyesight of one of their daughters, the Gladstones made a
journey to southern Ptaly, and an eventful journey it proved, j^] 41
For Italy it was, that now first drew Mr. Gladstone by the
native ardour of his humanity, unconsciously and involun-
tarily, into that great European stream of liberalism which
was destined to carry him so far. Two deep principles,
sentiments, aspirations, forces, call them what we will, awoke
the huge uprisings that shook Europe in 1848 — the principle
of Liberty, the sentiment of Nationality. Mr. Gladstone,
slowly and almost blindly heaving off his shoulders the
weight of old conservative tradition, did not at first go
beyond liberty, with all that ordered liberty conveys.
Nationality penetrated later, and then indeed it penetrated
to the heart's core. He went to Naples with no purposes of
political propagandism, and his prepossessions were at that
time pretty strongly in favour of established governments,
either at Naples or anywhere else. The case had doubtless
been opened to him by Panizzi — a man as Mr. Gladstone
described him, ' of warm, large, and free nature, an accom-
plished man of letters, and a victim of political persecution,
who came to this country a nearly starving refugee.' But

389

890 NAPLES

Panizzi had certainly made no great revolutionist of hi
His opinions, as he told Lord Aberdeen, were the involnnta
I860. *^^ unexpected result of his sojourn.

He had nothing to do with the subterranean forces
work in the kingdom of the Two Sicilies, in the Sta
of the Church, and in truth all over the Peninsula. T
protracted struggle that had begun after the establishme
of Austrian domination in the Peninsula in 1815, and was
last to end in the construction of an Italian kingdom — t
most wonderful political transformation of the century
seemed after the fatal crisis of No vara (1849) further tl
ever from a close. Now was the morrow of the vast failu
and disenchantments of 1848. Jesuits and absolutists w<
once more masters, and reaction again alternated with c(
spiracy, risings, desperate carbonari plots. Mazzini, fc
years older than Mr. Gladstone, and Cavour, a year 1
junior, were directing in widely different ways, the one t
revolutionary movement of Young Italy, the other t
constitutional movement of the Italian Resurrection. T
scene presented brutal repression on the one hand ; on t
other a chaos of republicans and monarchists, unitaria
and federalists, frenzied idealists and sedate economists, wi
ultras and men of the sober middle course. In the mic
was the pope, the august shadow, not long before the cent;
now once again the foe, of his countrymen's aspirations aft
freedom and a purer glimpse of the lights of the sun. T
evolution of this extraordinary historic drama, to whii
passion, genius, hope, contrivance, stratagem, and fori
contributed alike the highest and the lowest elemen
in human nature and the growth of states, was to be one (
the most sincere of Mr. Gladstone's interests for the rest c
his life.

As we shall see, he was at first and he long remained ur
touched by the idea of Italian unity and Italy a nation. H
met some thirty or more Italian gentlemen in society i
Naples, of whom seven or eight only were in any sense liberal
and not one of them a republican. It was now that he msw
the acquaintance of Lacaita, afterwards so valued a friei
of his, and so well known in many circles in England for 1

SPECTACLE OF MISRULE 891

geniality, cultivation, and enlightenment. He was the legal
«ivUer to the British embassy ; he met Mr. Gladstone
constantly; they talked politics and literature day and jb,!*!.
night, * under the acacias and palms, between the fountains
and statues of the Villa Reale, looking now to the sea, now
to the world of fashion in the Corso.' Here Lacaita first
opened the traveller's eyes to the condition of things, though
he was able to say with literal truth that not a single state-
ment of fact was made upon Lacaita's credit. Mr. Gladstone
saw Bourbon absolutism no longer in the decorous hues
of conventional diplomacy, but as the black and execrable
thing it really was, — ' the negation of God erected into a
system of government.' Sitting in court for long hours
during the trial of Poerio, he listened with as much patience
as he could command to the principal crown witness,
giving such evidence that the tenth part of what he
heard should not only have ended the case, but secured
condign punishment for perjury — evidence that a prosti-
tute court found good enough to justify the infliction on
Poerio, not long before a minister of the crown, of the
dreadful penalty of four-and-twenty years in irons. Mr.
Gladstone accurately informed himself of the condition of
those who for unproved political offences were in thousands
undergoing degrading and murderous penalties. He con-
trived to visit some of the Neapolitan prisons, another name
for the extreme of filth and horror ; he saw political prisoners
(and political prisoners included a large percentage of the
liberal opposition) chained two and two in double irons to
common felons ; he conversed with Poerio himself in the bagno
of Nisida chained in this way ; he watched sick prisoners,
inen almost with death in their faces, toiling upstairs to see
the doctors, because the lower regions were too foul and
loathsome to allow it to be expected that professional men
^ould enter. Even these inhuman and revolting scenes
rtirred him less, as it was right they should, than the
corruptions of the tribunals, the vindictive treatment for
ong periods of time of uncondemned and untried men, and
II the other proceedings of the government, * desolating
a tire classes upon which the life and growth of the nation

392 NAPLES

depend, undermining the foundation of all civil role.' It
was this violation of all law, and of the constitation to vlueli
l^l King Ferdinand had solemnly sworn fidelity only a year or
two before, that outraged him more than even rigorooi
sentences and barbarous prison practice. * Even on the
severity of these sentences,' he wrote, *I would not
endeavour to fix attention so much as to draw it of
from the great fact of illegality, which seems to me to le
the foundation of the Neapolitan system ; illegality, the
fountain-head of cruelty and baseness and every other Tice;
illegality which gives a bad conscience, creates fears; those
fears lead to tyranny, that tyranny begets resentment, thit
resentment creates true causes of fear where they were not
before ; and thus fear is quickened and enhanced, the origiui
vice multiplies itself with fearful speed, and the old crime
engenders a necessity for new/ ^

Poerio apprehended that his own case had been made
worse by the intervention of Mr. Temple, the British
minister and brother of Lord Palmerston ; not in the least
as blaming him or considering it officious. He adopted the
motto, ' to suffer is to do,' ' il patire e anehe operare.' For
himself he was not only willing — he rejoiced — to play the
martyr's part.

I was particularly desirous, wrote Mr. Gladstone in a privaie
memorandum, to have Poerio's opinion on the expediency oi
making some effort in England to draw general attention to thes6
horrors, and dissociate the conservative party from all suppositions
of winking at them ; because I had had from a sensible man one
strong opinion against* such a course. I said to him that in mf
view only two modes could be thought of, — the first, amicable
remonstrance through the cabinets, the second public notoriety
and shame. That had Lord Aberdeen been in power the first
might have been practicable, but that with Lord Palmerston it
would not, because of his position relatively to the other cabinets
(Yes, he said. Lord Palmerston was isolato)^ not because he would
be wanting in the will. Matters standing thus, I saw no way
open but that of exposure ; and might that possibly exasperate the
^ For the two Letters to Lord Aberdeen^ see Gleanings^ iv.

I

BBTUBN TO LONDON 898

Neapolitan government, and increase their severity ? His reply

^aSy ' As to us, never mind ; we can hardly be worse than we

are. But think of our country, for which we are most willing to je^t. 42.

be sacrificed. Exposure will do it good. The present government

of Naples rely on the English conservative party. Consequently

we were all in horror when Lord Stanley last year carried his

motion in the House of Lords. Let there be a voice from that

party showing that whatever government be in power in England,

no support will be given to such proceedings as these. It will do

much to break them down. It will also strengthen the hands of

abetter and less obdurate class about the court. Even there all

are not alike. I know it from observation. These ministers are

the extremest of extremes. There are others who would willingly

see more moderate means adopted.' On such grounds as these (I

do not quote words) he strongly recommended me to cuSt.

n

Mr. Gladstone reached London on February 26. Philli-
more met him at the station with Lord Stanley's letter, of
which we shall hear in the next chapter, pressing him
to enter the government. 'I was never more struck,'
says Phillimore, 'by the earnestness and simplicity of his
character. He could speak of nothing so readily as the
horrors of the Neapolitan government, of which I verily
believe he thought nearly as much as the prospect of his
own accession to one of the highest offices of state.' He
probably thought not only nearly as much, but infinitely
more of those ' scenes fitter for hell than earth,' now many
hundred miles away, but still vividly burning in the haunted
chambers of his wrath and pity. After rapidly despatching
the proposal to join the new cabinet, after making the best
he could of the poignant anxieties that were stirred in him
by the unmistakeable signs of the approaching secession of
Hope and Manning, he sought Lord Aberdeen (March 4),
and 'found him as always, satisfactory ; kind, just, moderate,
humane' (to Mrs. Gladstone, March 4). He had come to
London with the intention of obtaining, if possible, Aber-
deen's intervention, in preference to any other mode of

gave 11^ ' iiiai<iire (xjusiuerauou lor uiki u^mh part ui t
His antecedents made him cautious. Mr. Gladst
years later, admitted that Lord Aberdeen's views
did not harmonise with what was his general i
estimating human action and the world's affairs, ai
was a reason for this in his past career. In very ear
he had been called upon to deal with the gigantic q
that laid their mighty weight upon European state
the fall of Napoleon ; the natural effect of this cl<
tact with the vast and formidable problems of 181
to make him r^ard the state-system then founc
structure on which only reckless or criminal ui
would dare to lay a finger. The fierce storms of II
not calculated to loosen this fixed idea, or to dispose
any new views of either the relations of Austria to
of the uncounted mischiefs to the Peninsula of whii
relations were the nourishing and maintaining caus<
debate in the Lords two years before (July 20, 184!
Aberdeen had sharply criticised the British gov
of the day for doing the very thing oflScially, wh
Gladstone was now bringing moral compulsion on
attempt unofficially. Lord Palmerston had called s
at Vienna to the crying evils of the government of
and had boldly said that it was little wonder if men j

POSITION OF LORD ABERDBBN 895

for long years under such grievances and seeing no hope of
redress, ^ould take up any scheme, however wild, that held
out any chance of relief. This and other proceedings in- ^x!42.
dicating unfriendliness to the King of Naples and a veiled
sympathy with rebellion shocked Aberdeen as much as
Lamartine's trenchant saying that the treaties of Vienna
were effete. In attacking Palmerston's foreign policy again in
1850, he protested that we had deeply injured Austria and
had represented her operations in Italy in a completely false
light. In his speech in the Pacifico debate, he had referred
to the Neapolitan government without approval but in
guarded phrases, and had urged as against Lord Palmerston
that the less they admired Neapolitan institutions and usages,
the more careful ought they to be not to impair the applica-
tion of the sacred principles that govern and harmonise
the intercourse between states, from which you never can
depart without producing mischiefs a thousand fold greater
than any promised advantage. Aberdeen was too upright and
deeply humane a man to resist the dreadful evidence that
was now forced upon him. Still that evidence plainly shook
down his own case of a few months earlier, and this cannot
have been pleasing. He felt the truth and the enormity of
the indictment laid before him ; he saw the prejudice that
would inevitably be done to conservatism both at home and
on the European continent, by the publication of such an
mdictment from the lips of such a pleader ; and he perceived
from Mr. Gladstone's demeanour that the decorous plausi-
bilities of diplomacy would no more hold him back from
resolute exposure, than they would put out the fires of
Vesuvius or Etna.

On May 2 Lord Aberdeen wrote to Schwarzenberg at
Vienna, saying that for forty years he had been connected
with the Austrian government, and taken a warm interest in
the fortunes of the empire ; that Mr. Gladstone, one of the
most distinguished members of the cabinet of Peel, had
been so shocked by what he saw at Naples, that he was
resolved to make some public appeal ; that to avoid the
pain and scandal of a conservative statesman taking such a

I course, would not his highness use his powerful influence to

896 NAPLBS

get done at Naples all that could reasonably be desired?
The Austrian minister replied several weeks after (June 30).
Ig5l^ If he had been invited, he said, officially to interfere he
would have declined ; as it was, he would bring Mr. Glad-
stone's statements to the notice of his Sicilian majesty.
Meanwhile, at great length, he reminded Lord Aberdeen thai
a political offender may be the worst of all offenders, anc
argued that the rigour exercised by England herself in th^
Ionian Islands, in Ceylon, in respect of Irishmen, and i^
the recent case of Ernest Jones, showed how careful sU.,
should be in taking up abroad the cause of bad men posinj
as martyrs in the holy cause of liberty.

During all these weeks, while Aberdeen was maturely coti,
sidering, and while Prince Schwarzenberg was making his
secretaries hunt up recriminatory cases against England,
Mr. Gladstone was growing impatient. Lord Aberdeen
begged him to give the Austrian minister a little more time.
It was nearly four months since Mr. Gladstone landed at
Dover, and every day he thought of Poerio, Settembrini, and
the rest, wearing their double chains, subsisting on their
foul soup, degraded by forced companionship with criminals,
cut off from the light of heaven, and festering in their
dungeons. The facts that escaped from him in private con-
versation seemed to him — so he tells Lacaita — to spread like
wildfire from man to man, exciting the liveliest interest, and
extending to the highest persons in the land. He waited
a fortnight more, then at the beginning of July he launched
his thunderbolt, publishing his Letter to Lord Aberdeen,
followed by a second explanation and enlargement a fort-
night later.^ He did not obtain formal leave from Lori
Aberdeen for the publication, but from their conversation
took it for granted.

The sensation was profound, and not in England only.
The Letters were translated into various tongues and had
a large circulation. The Society of the Friends of Italy in
London, the disciples of Mazzini (and a high-hearted band
they were), besought him to become a member. Exiles wrote

1 The mere announcement caused was required almost before the first
such a demand that a second edition was published.

NEAPOLITAN LETTERS PUBLISHED 897

him letters of gratitude and hope, with all the moving accent
of revolutionary illusion. Italian women composed fervid
odes in fire and tears to the ^ generoso britannoy* the ' magna- ^x'42.
nimo cor J* the ' difensore d'un popolo gemente.' The press in
this country took the matter up with the warmth that might
have been expected. The character and the politics of the
accuser added invincible force to his accusations, and for the
first time in his life Mr. Gladstone found himself vehemently
applauded in liberal prints. Even the contemporary excite-
ment of English public feeling against the Roman catholic
church fed the flame. It was pointed out thart the King of
Naples was the bosom friend of the pope, and that the
infernal system described by Mr. Gladstone was that which
the Roman clergy regarded as normal and complete.^ Mr.
Gladstone had denounced as one of the most detestable
books he ever read a certain catechism used in the Neapoli-
tan schools. Why then, cried the TimeSj does he omit all
comment on the church which is the main and direct agent
in this atrocious instruction ? The clergy had either basely
accepted from the government doctrines that they were
bound to abhor, or else these doctrines were their own. And
80 things glided easily round to Dr. Cullen and the Irish
education question. This line was none the less natural from
the fact that the editor of the Universe the chief catholic
organ in France, made himself the foremost champion
of the Neapolitan policy. The Letters delighted the Paris
Reds. They regarded their own epithets as insipid by com-
parison with the ferocious adjectives of the English con-
servative. On the other hand, an English gentleman was
blackballed at one of the fashionable clubs in Paris for no
better reason than that he bore the name of Gladstone. For
European conservatives read the letters with disgust and
apprehension. People like Madame de Lieven pronounced
Mr. Gladstone the dupe of men less honest than himself, and
declared that he had injured the good cause and discredited
Ills own fame, besides doing Lord Aberdeen the wrong of
setting his name at the head of a detestable libel. The

^ Wesleyan Methodist Magazine, October 1851. Protestant Magazine,
September 1851.

898 NAPLES

BOOK illustrious Guizot wrote Mr. Gladstone a long letter express ^
• y ing, with much courtesy and kindness, his regret at thi^

1861. publication. Nothing is left in Italy, said Guizot, betweer^
the terrors of governments attacked in their very existence
and the fury of the beaten revolutionists with hopes more
alert than ever for destruction and chaos. The King of
Naples on one side, Mazzini on the other ; such, said Guizot,
is Italy. Between the King of Naples and Mazzini, he for
one did not hesitate. This was Mr. Gladstone's first contact
with the European party of order in the middle of the
century. Guizot was a great man, but '48 had perverted his :
generalising intellect, and everywhere his jaundiced vision
perceived in progress a struggle for life and death with ' the I
revolutionary spirit, blind, chimerical, insatiate, impracti-
cable.' He avowed his own failure when he was at the head
of the French government, to induce the rulers of Italy to
make reforms ; and now the answer of Schwarzenberg to
Lord Aberdeen, as well as the official communications from
Naples, showed that like Guizot's French policy the Austrian
remedy was moonshine.

Perhaps discomposed by the reproaches of reactionary
friends abroad, Lord Aberdeen thought he had some reason
to complain of the publication. It is not easy to see why.
Mr. Gladstone from the first insisted that if private remon-
strance did not work ' without elusion or delay,' he would
make a public appeal. In transmitting the first letter, he
described in very specific terms his idea that a short time
would suffice to show whether the private method could b©
relied upon.^ The attitude of the minister at Vienna, of
Fortunato at Naples, and of Castelcicala in London, dis-
covered even to Aberdeen himself how little reasonable
hope there was of anything being done ; elusion and delay
was all that he could expect. He was forced to give
entire credit to Mr. Gladstone's horrible story, and was as
far as possible from thinking it a detestable libel. He never
denied the foundation of the case, or the actual state of
the abominable facts. Schwarzenberg never consented to
comply with his wishes even when writing before the publi-
1 Gladstone to Lord Aberdeen, September 16, 1851.

SENSATION IN EUROPE 899

cation. How then could Aberdeen expect that Mr. Gladstone
should abandon the set and avowed purpose with which
he had come flaming and resolved to England? ^ ^

It was exactly because the party with which Mr. Gladstone
was allied had made itself the supporter of established
governments throughout Europe, that in his eyes that party
became specially responsible for not passing by in silence
any course of conduct, even in a foreign country, flagrantly
at variance with right.^ And what was there, when at last
they arrived, in Prince Schwarzenberg's idle dissertations and
recriminations, winding up with a still more idle sentence
about bringing the charges under the notice of the Neapolitan
government, that should induce Mr. Gladstone to abandon
his purpose? He had something else to think of than the
scandal to the reactionaries of Europe. * I wish it were in
your power,' he writes to Lacaita in May, * to assure any of
those directly interested, in my name, that I am not un-
faithful to them, and will use every means in my power;
feeble they are, and I lament it ; but God is strong and is
just and good ; and the issue is in His hands.' That is what
he was thinking of. When he talked of *the sacred purposes
of humanity' it was not artificial claptrap in a protocol.^

' When I consider,' Mr. Gladstone wrote to Lord Aberdeen,
*that Prince Schwarzenberg really knew the state of things
at Naples well enough independently of me, and then ask
myself why did he wait seven weeks before acknowledging
i letter relating to the intense sufferings of human beings

^ Mr. Gladstone in an undated as to the mode of proceeding^ — (Mr.

Irafi letter to Castelcicala. Gladstone to Lord Aberdeen, July 7,

2 The one point on which Lord Aber- 1861). Then he proceeds as to the
ieen had a right to complain was that new supplementary publication : ' If
Mr. Gladstone did not take his ad- it be disagreeable to you in any man-
vice. As the point revives in Lord ner to be the recipient of such sad
Stanmore's excellent life of his father, communications, or if you think it
it may be worth while to reproduce better for any other reason, 1 would
two further passages from Mr. Glad- put the further matter into another
stone^s letter to Lord Aberdeen of form. ' In answer to this. Lord Aber-
July 7, 1851. Before publishing the deen seems not to have done any more
second of the two Letters, he wrote to refuse leave to associate his name
o Lord Aberdeen : * I ought perhaps with the second Letter, than he had
o have asked your formal permission done to withdraw the assumed leave
oT the act of publication ; but / for the association of his name with
hought that I distinctly inferred it the first.
rom a recent conversation with you

400 NAPLES

which were going on day by day and hour by hour, while
his people were concocting all that trash about Frost aud
1851 Ernest Jones and O'Brien, I cannot say that I think the
spirit of the letter was creditable to him, or very promis-
ing as regards these people.' The Neapolitan governmeot
entered the field with a formal reply point by point, and
Mr. Gladstone met them with a point by point rejoinder.
The matter did not rest there. Soon after his arrival at
home, he had had some conversation with John Russell,
Palmerston, and other members of the government. They
were much interested and not at all incredulous. Lord
Palmerston's brother kept him too well informed about the
state of things there for him to be sceptical. * Gladstone
and Molesworth,' wrote Palmerston, 'say that they were
wrong last year in their attacks on my foreign policy, but
they did not know the truth. '^ Lord Palmerston directed
copies of Mr. Gladstone's Letters to be sent to the British
representatives in all the courts of Europe, with instructions
to give a copy to each government. The Neapolitan envoy in
London in his turn requested him also to send fifteen copies
of the pamphlet that had been got up on the other side.
Palmerston promptly, and in his most characteristic style,
vindicated Mr. Gladstone against the charges of overstate-
ment and hostile intention ; warned the Neapolitan govern-
ment of the violent revolution that long-continued and
widespread injustice would assuredly bring upon them;
hoped that they might have set to work to correct the
manifold and grave abuses to which their attention had
been drawn ; and flatly refused to have anything to do with
an official pamphlet 'consisting of a flimsy tissue of bare
assertions and reckless denials, mixed up with coarse
ribaldry and commonplace abuse.' This was the kind of
thing that gave to Lord Palmerston the best of his power
over the people of England.

In the House of Commons he spoke with no less warmth-

Though he had not felt it his duty, he said, to make

representations at Naples on a matter relating to internal

affairs, he thought Mr. Gladstone had done himself great

1 Aflhley, Palmerstofiy ii. p. 179.

ENEBOETIO SYMPATHY OP PALMBESTON 401

bonour. Instead of seeking amusements, diving into vol- CHAP,
canoes and exploring excavated cities, he had visited prisons, v ' y
descended into dungeons, examined cases of the victims of jet. 42.
illegality and injustice, and had then sought to rouse the
public opinion of Europe. It was because he concurred in
tJils opinion that he had circulated the pamphlet, in the
hope that the European courts might use their influence.^
As Lord Aberdeen told Madame de Lieven, Mr. Gladstone's
pamphlet by the extraordinary sensation it had created
a-mong men of all parties had given a great practical
triumph to Palmerston and the foreign office.

The immediate effect of Mr. Gladstone's appeal was an
aggravation of prison rigour. Panizzi was convinced that
-the king did not know of all the iniquities exposed by Mr.
Gladstone. At the close of 1851 he obtained an interview
^*'itli Ferdinand, and for twenty minutes spoke of Poerio,
Settembrini and the condition of the prisons. The king
suddenly cut short the interview, saying, Addio^ terribile
PanizziJ^ Faint streaks of light from the outside world
pierced the gloom of the dungeons. As time went on, a lady
contrived to smuggle in a few pages of Mr. Gladstone's first
Letter ; and in 1854 the martyrs heard vaguely of the action
of Cavour. But it was not until 1859 that the tyrant, fearing
theory of horror that would go up in Europe if Poerio
should die in chains, or worse than death, should go mad,
commuted prison to perpetual exile,^ and sixty-six of them
were embarked for America. At Lisbon they were trans-
ferred to an American ship ; the captain, either intimidated
or bribed, put in at Queens town. ' In setting foot on this
free soil,' Poerio wrote to Mr. Gladstone from the Irish haven
(March 12, 1859), ' the first need of my heart was to seek
news of you.' Communications were speedily opened. The
Italians made their way to Bristol, where they were received
nith sympathy and applause by the population. The deliver-
ance of their country was close at hand.

^ August 7, 1851. Hansard^ cxv. Letters in leading indirectly to this

p. 1W9. decision, see the address of Baldac-

* Fagan*s Life of Panizzi^ ii- PP. chini, Delia Vita e de* Tempi di Carlo

102-5. PoeHo (1867), p. 58.

» On the share of Mr. Gladstone's

VOL. I — 2d

402 NAPLES

Not now, nor for many years to come, did Mr. Gladsto a
grasp the idea of Italian unity. It was impossible for hi:
1851. ^ ignore, but he did undoubtedly set aside, the fact tba
every shade and section of Italian liberalism from Farini oi
the right, to Mazzini on the furthest left, insisted on treating
Italy as a political integer, and placed the independence of
Italy and the expulsion of Austria from Italian soil as tb»
first and fundamental article in the creed of reform. Lika
most of the English friends of the Italian cause at this time,
except the small but earnest group who rallied round thd
powerful moral genius of Mazzini, he thought only of local
freedom and local reforms. ' The purely abstract idea of
Italian nationality,' said Mr. Gladstone at this time, *• makes
little impression and finds limited sympathy among our-
selves.' *I am certain,' he wrote to Panizzi (June 21,1851),
*that the Italian habit of preaching unity and nationality
in preference to showing grievances produces a revulsion
here ; for if there are two things on earth that John Bull
hates, they are an abstract proposition and the pope.'
* You need not be afraid, I think,' he told Lord Aberdeen
(December 1, 1851), ' of Mazzinism from me, still less of
Kossuth-ism, which means the other plus imposture. Lord
Palmerston, and his nationalities.' But then in 1854 Manin
came to England, and failed to persuade even Lord Palmer-
ston that the unity of Italy was the only clue to her freedom.*
The Russian war made it inconvenient to quarrel with Aus-
tria about Italy. With Mr. Gladstone he made more way.
'Seven to breakfast to meet Manin,' says the diary; 'he too
is wild.' Not too wild, however, to work conversion on his
host. 'It was my privilege,' Mr. Gladstone afterwards
wrote, ' to welcome Manin in London in 1854, when I had
long been anxious for reform in Italy, and it was from him
that, in common with some other Englishmen, I had my
first lessons upon Italian unity as the indispensable basis of
all effectual reform under the peculiar circumstances of that
country.' ^ Yet the page of Dante holds the lesson.

1 Gf?€amngr«,iv. pp. 188,196. Trans, of Manin, Sept. 28, 1872. For
of Farini, pref. p. ix. Man in' s account, see his Life, Vr

2 To Dr. Errera, author of A Life Henri Martin, p. 877.

THE TEMPORAL POWBB 403

in

On one important element in the complex Italian case at
this time, Mr. Gladstone gained a clear view.

Sbme things I have learned in Italy, he wrote to Manning
(JCLfiuary 26, 1851), that I did not know before, one in particular.
The temporal power of the pope, that great, wonderful, and ancient
erection, is gone. The problem has been worked out — the ground
is mined — the train is laid — a foreign force, in its nature transi-
tory, alone stays the hand of those who would complete the process
by applying the match. This seems, rather than is, a digression.
When that event comes, it will bring about a great shifting of
parts — much super- and much subter-position. God grant it may
be for good. I desire it, because I see plainly that justice requires
it Not out of malice to the popedom; for I cannot at this
moment dare to answer with a confident affirmative, the question,
a very solemn one — Ten, twenty, fifty years hence, will there be
any other body in western Christendom witnessing for fixed dog-
matic truth ? With all my heart I wish it well (though perhaps
not wholly what the consistory might think agreed with the
meaning of the term) — it would be to me a joyous day in which I
should see it really doing welL

Various ideas of this kind set him to work on the large
and curious enterprise, long since forgotten, of translating
Farini's volumes on the Roman State from 1815 down to
1850. According to the entries in his diary he began and
finished the translation of a large portion of the book
at Naples in 1850 — dictating and writing almost daily.
Three of the four volumes of this English translation were
done with extraordinary speed by Mr. Gladstone's own
hand, and the fourth was done under his direction.^ His
object was, without any reference to Italian unity, to give
an illustration of the actual working of the temporal power
in its latest history. It is easy to understand how the theme
iJfted in with the widest topics of his life ; the nature of

J The first two volumes were pub- Sent No. 1 to the Prince ; and wrote

ijshed by Mr. Murray in 1862, and with sad feelings in those for Hope

the last two in 1854. * June 17, 1851. and Manning.' — Diary,
— Got my first copies of Farini.

iET.42.

404 NAPLES

theocratic goyemment ; the possibility (to borrow Cavours
famous phrase) of a free church in a free state ; jemd above
1851. ^^y — as he says to Manning now, and said to all the world
twenty years later in the day of the Vatican decrees, — the
mischiefs done to the cause of what he took for saring
truth by evil-doing in the heart and centre of the most
powerful of all the churches. His translation of Farini,
followed by his article on the same subject in the ^din-
burgh in 1852, was his first blast against Hhe covetous,
domineering, implacable policy represented in the term
Ultramontanism ; the winding up higher and higher,
tighter and tighter, of the hierarchical spirit, in total
disregard of those elements by which it ought to be
checked and balanced ; and an unceasing, covert, smoulder-
ing war against human freedom, even in its most modest
and retiring forms of private life and of the individual
conscience.' With an energy not unworthy of Burke at his
fiercest, he denounces the fallen and impotent regality of the
popes as temporal sovereigns. 'A monarchy sustained by
foreign armies, smitten with the curse of social barremiess,
unable to strike root downward or bear fruit upward, the
sun, the air, the rain soliciting in vain its sapless and rotten
boughs — such a monarchy, even were it not a monarchy of
priests, and tenfold more because it is one, stands out a foal
blot upon the face of creation, an offence to Christendom
and to mankind.'^ As we shall soon see, he was just as
wrathful, just as impassioned and as eloquent, when, in «
memorable case in his own country, the temporal power
bethought itself of a bill for meddling with the rights of a
Roman voluntary church.

1 Gleanings, iv. pp. 160, 176.

CHAPTER VII

BBLIGI0U8 TOBNADO — PEEUTE DIFFICULTIES

(,1851'186£)

I AM always disposed to view with regret the rupture of party ties
—my disposition is rather to maintain them. I confess I look, if
not with suspicion, at least with disapprobation on any one who
]& disposed to treat party connections as matters of small impor-
tance. My opinion is that party ties closely appertain to those
principles of confidence which we entertain for the House of
Commons. — Gladstone (1862).

As we have seen, on the morning of his arrival from his
Italian journey (February 26, 1851) Mr. Gladstone found
that he was urgently required to meet Lord Stanley. ^BSr^ia.
Mortified by more than one repulse at the opening of the
session, the whigs had resigned. The Queen sent for the
protectionist leader. Stanley said that he was not then
prepared to form a government, but that if other combina-
tions failed, he would make the attempt. Lord John Russell
was once more summoned to the palace, this time along with
Aberdeen and Graham — the first move in a critical march
towards the fated coalition between whigs and Peelites.
The negotiation broke off on the No Popery bill ; Lord John
was committed to it, the other two strongly disapproved.
The Queen next wished Aberdeen to undertake the task.
Apparently not without some lingering doubts, he declined
on the good ground that the House of Commons would not
stand his attitude on papal aggression.^ Then according to

^ * He had told the Queen that he not clearly catch, namely that Lord

thought all the offices might be filled Aberdeen himself would have acted

^ a respectable manner from among on the Queen's wish, and that

^e niembers of the Peel administra- Graham had either suggested the

^on. On a subsequent day both difficulty altogether, or at any rate

Herbert and Card well made out got it put forward into its position.'

'wm his conversation what I did Gladstone Memo., April 22, 1861.

406

406 BEUGIOUS TORNADO

BOOK promise Lord Stanley tried his band. Proceedings were
^^- suspended for some days until Mr. Gladstone should be on

1851 ^^® ground. He no sooner reached Carlton Gardens, than
Lord Lincoln arrived, eager to dissuade him from accept-
ing office. Before the discussion had gone far, the tory
whip hurried in from Stanley, begging for an immediate
visit.

I promised, says Mr. Gladstone, to go directly after seeing Lord
Aberdeen. But he came back with a fresh message to go at once,
and hear what Stanley had to say. I did not like to stickle,
and went. He told me his object was that I should take office
with him — any office, subject to the reservation that the foreign
department was offered to Canning, but if he declined it vas
open to me, along with others of which he named the colonial
office and the board of trade. Nothing was said of the leader-
ship of the House of Commons, but his anxiety was evident to
have any occupant but one for the foreign office. I told him, I
should ask no questions and make no remark on these points, as
none of them would constitute a difficulty with me, provided no
preliminary obstacle were found to intervene. Stanley then said
that he proposed to maintain the system of free trade generally,
but to put a duty of five or six shillings on corn. I heard him
pretty much in silence, but with an intense sense of relief ; feel-
ing that if he had put protection in abeyance, I might hare had
a most difficult question to decide, whereas now I had no question
at all. I thought, however, it might be well that I should still
see Lord Aberdeen before giving him an answer; and told him
I would do so. I asked him also what was his intention with
respect to papal aggression. He said that this measure was hasty
and intemperate as well as ineffective ; and that he thought some-
thing much better might result from a comprehensive and deliberate
inquiry. I told him I was utterly against all penal legislation
and against the ministerial bill, but that I did not on principle
object to inquiry ; that, on general as well as on personal grounds,
I wished well to his undertakings ; and that I would see Lord
Aberdeen, but that what he had told me about com constituted,
I must not conceal from him, *an enormous difficulty.' I used
this expression for the purpose of preparing him to receive the

DECLINES OFFICE 407

answer it was plain I must give; he told me his persevering CHAP,
would probably depend on me.

Mr. Gladstone next hastened to Lord Aberdeen, and
learned what had been going on during his absence abroad.
He learned also the clear opinions held by Aberdeen and
Graham against No Popery legislation, and noticed it as
remarkable that so many minds should arrive independently
at the same conclusion on a new question, and in opposition
to the overwhelming majority. * I then,' he continues, 'went
on to the levee, saw Lord Normanby and others, and began
to bruit abroad the fame of the Neapolitan government.
Immediately after leaving the levee (where I also saw
Canning, told him what I meant to do, and gathered that
he would do the like), I changed my clothes and went to
give Lord Stanley my answer, at which he did not show the
least surprise. He said he would still persevere, though
with little hope. I think I told him it seemed to me
he ought to do so. I was not five minutes with him this
second time.' ^

The protectionists having failed, and the Peelites standing
aside, the whigs came back, most of them well aware that
they could not go on for long. The events of the late crisis
had given Mr. Gladstone the hope that Graham would
effectively place himself at the head of the Peelites, and that
they would now at length begin to take an independent course
of their own. ' But it soon appeared that, unconsciously I
think more than consciously, he is set upon the object of
avoiding the responsibility either of taking the government
with the Peel squadron, or of letting in Stanley and his
friends.' Here was the weak point in a strong and capable
character. When Graham died ten years after this (1861),
Mr. Gladstone wrote to a friend, 'On administrative ques-
tions, for the last twenty years and more, I had more
spontaneous recourse to him for advice, than to all other
colleagues together.' In some of the foundations of char-
acter no two men could be more unlike. One of his closest
allies talks to Graham of 'your sombre temperament.' *My
^ Memorandum, dated Fasque, April 22, 1851.

VIL

408 RELIGIOUS TORNADO

BOOK forebodings are always gloomy,' says Graham himself; 'I
V ' y shudder on the brink of the torrent,' All accounts agree
1861. ^^^^ ^^ ^^ * good counsellor in cabinet, a first-rate manager
of business, a good if rather pompous speaker, admirably
loyal and single-minded, but half-ruined by intense timidity.
I have heard nobody use warmer language of commendation
about him than Mr. Bright. But nature had not made him
for a post of chief command.

It by and by appeared that the Duke of Newcastle,
known to us hitherto as Lord Lincoln, coveted the post
of leader, but Mr. Gladstone thought that on every ground
Lord Aberdeen was the person entitled to hold it. * I made/
says Mr. Gladstone, 'my views distinctly known to the
duke. He took no offence. I do not know what commu-
nications he may have held with others. But the upshot
was that Lord Aberdeen became our leader. And this
result was obtained without any shock or conflict.'^

n
In the autumn of 1860 the people of this country were
frightened out of their senses by a document from the
Vatican, dividing England into dioceses bearing territorial
titles and appointing Cardinal Wiseman to be Archbishop
of Westminster. The uproar was tremendous. Lord John
Russell cast fuel upon the flame in a perverse letter to
the Bishop of Durham (Nov. 4, 1850). In this unhappy
document he accepted the description of the aggression
of the pope upon our protestantism as insolent and
insidious, declared his indignation to be greater even
than his alarm, and even his alarm at the aggpressions
of a foreign sovereign to be less than at the conduct
of unworthy sons of the church of England within her
own gates. He wound up by declaring that the great mass
of the nation looked with contempt upon the mummeries
of superstition. Justified indeed was Bright's stem rebuke
to a prime minister of the Queen who thus allowed himself
to offend and to indict eight millions of his countrymen,
recklessly to create fresh discords between the Irish and
1 Memorandum, Sept 0, 1897.

BILL AGAINST ECCLESIASTICAL TITLES 409

English nations, and to perpetuate animosities that the CHAP,
last five-and-twenty years had done so much to assuage. ^ ^ ^
Having thus precipitately committed himself, the minister jg^^^ 42.
was forced to legislate, ' I suspect,' wrote Mr. Gladstone to
his great friend, Sir Walter James, ' John Russell has more
rocks and breakers ahead than he reckoned upon when he
dipped his pen in gall to smite first the pope, but most
those who not being papists are such traitors and fools as
really to mean something when they say, " 1 believe in one
Holy Catholic Church." ' There was some division of
opinion in the cabinet,^ but a bill was settled, and the
temper of the times may be gauged by the fact that leave
to introduce it was given by the overwhelming majority of
395 votes to 63.

In his own language, Mr. Gladstone lamented and dis-
approved of the pope's proceeding extremely, and had taken
care to say so in parliament two and a half years before, when
^ Lord John Russell, if he had chosen, could have stopped it;
but the government and the press were alike silent at that
period.'* His attitude is succinctly described in a letter
to Greswell, his Oxford chairman, in 1852 : ' Do not let it
be asserted without contradiction that I ever felt or
counselled indifference in regard to the division of Eng-
land into Romish dioceses. So far is this from being
the truth that shortly after I was elected, when the
government were encouraginff the pope to proceed^ and
when there was yet time to stop the measure (which I
deplore sincerely) by amicable means, I took the oppor-
tunity in the House (as did Sir R. Inglis, I think a little
later), of trying to draw attention to it. But it was nobody's
game then, and the subject fell to the ground. Amicable
prevention I desired ; spiritual and ecclesiastical resistance
I heartily approved ; but while I say this, I cannot recede
from one inch of the ground I took in opposing the bill, and
I would far rather quit parliament for ever than not have
voted against so pernicious a measure.'

Other matters, as we have seen, brought on a ministerial
crisis, the bill was stopped, and after the crisis was over
1 Grey Papers. « To Phillimore, Nov. 26, 1860.

410 RELIGIOUS TORNADO

the measure came to life again with changes making it still
more futile for its ends. The Peelites while, like Mr.
185L Bright, ^despising and loathing' the language of the
Vatican and the Flaminian Gate, had all of them with-
out concert taken this outburst of prejudice and paasioo
at its right value, and all resolved to resist legiskdon
How, they asked, could you tolerate the Roman catholic
religion, if you would not tolerate its tenet of the ecclesiasd-
cal supremacy of the pope ; and what sort of toleration of
such a tenet would that be, which forbade the pope to Dame
ecclesiastics to exercise the spiritual authority exercised in
any other voluntary episcopal church, Scottish, colonial, or
another? Why was it more of a usurpation for the pope to
make a new Archbishop of Westminster, than to administer
London by the old form of vicars apostolic? Was not
the action of the pope, after all, a secondary considen^
tion, and the frenzy really and in essence an explosion
of popular wrath against the Puseyites? What was to be
thought of a prime minister who, at such risk to the public
peace, tried to turn the ferment to account for the sake of
strengthening his tottering government ? To all this there
was no rational reply ; and even the editor of a powerful
newspaper that every morning blew up the coals, admitwd
to Greville that ' he thought the whole thing humbug and
a pack of nonsense ! ' ^

The debate on the second reading was marked by a little
brutality and much sanctimony. Mr. Gladstone (March
25, 1851) spoke to a House practically almost solid against
him. Yet his superb resources as an orator, his trans-
parent depth of conviction, the unnustakeable proofs that
his whole heart was in the matter, mastered his audience and
made the best of them in their hearts ashamed. He talked of
Boniface viii. and Honorius ix. ; he pursued a long and
close historical demonstration of the earnest desire of the
lay catholics of this country for diocesan bishops as against
vicars apostolic ; he moved among bulls and rescripts, briefs
and pastorals and canon law, with as much ease as if
he had been arguing about taxes and tariffs. Through it
all the House watched and listened in enchantment, as to
1 Greville, Part ii. vol. lii. p. 869.

GREAT SPEECH AGAINST THE BILL 411

rnagnificent tragedian playing a noble part in a foreign CHAP.

rigue. They did not apprehend every point, nor were they y ^

>rx verted, but they felt a man with the orator's quality ^t.42.

; taking fire and kindling fire at a moral idea. They felt

i& command of the whole stock of fact and of principle be-

>iiging to his topics, as with the air and the power of a heroic

taster he cleared the way before him towards his purpose.

fc^long with complete grasp of details, went grasp of some of

he most important truths in the policy of a modern state.

le clearly perceived the veiy relevant fact, so often over-

ooked by advocates of the free church in a free state, that

there is no religious body in the world where religious

)ffice8 do not in a certain degree conjoin with temporal

incidents.' But this did not affect the power of his stroke,

as he insisted on respect for the frontier — no scientific

frontier — between temporal and spiritual. 'You speak of

the progress of the Roman catholic religion, and you pretend

to meet that progress by a measure false in principle as it is

ludicrous in extent. You must meet the progress of that

spiritual system by the progress of another ; you can never

do it by penal enactments. Here, once for all, I enter my

most solemn, earnest, and deliberate protest against all

attempts to meet the spiritual dangers of our church by

temporal legislation of a penal character.' The whole speech

is in all its elements and aspects one of the great orator's

three or four most conspicuous masterpieces, and the reader

would not forgive me if I failed to transcribe its resplendent

close. He went back to a passage of Lord John Russell's

on the Majmooth bill of 1845. 'I never heard,' said Mr.

Gladstone, 'a more impressive passage delivered by any

statesman at any time in this House.'

The noble lord referred to some beautiful and touching lines of
Virg^, which the house will not regret to hear : —

* Scilicet et terapus veniet, cum finibus illis
Agricola, incurvo terrain molitus aratro,
Exesa inveniet scabra rubigine pila;
Aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanes,
Grandiaque eifossis mirabitur ossa sepulcris.* *

* G^eorgicSy i. 493-7. *Aye, and scurf the Roman pikeheads; shall

^^ 'Will come when the husbandman strike with heavy rake on empty

J^H hent ploughshare upturning the helms, and gaze in wonder on giant

^s^^ |hall find all corroded by rusty bones cast from their broken graves.'

412 BBLIOIOUS TORNADO

And he said, upon those scenes where battles have been fought,
the hand of nature effaces the traces of the wrath of man, and the
1861. cultivator of the soil in following times finds the rusted arms, and
looks upon them with calm and joy, as the memorials of forgotten,
strife, and as quickening his sense of the blessings of his peaceful
occupation. The noble lord went on to say, in reference to th^
powerful opposition then offered to the bill for the endowment
of Maynooth, that it seems as if upon the questions of religious
freedom, our strife is never to cease, and our arms are never to rust^
Would any man, who heard the noble lord deliver these impressive
sentiments, have believed not only that the strife with respect to
religious liberty was to be revived with a greater degree of acerbity,
in the year 1851, but that the noble lord himself was to be a main
agent in its revival — that his was to be the head that was to wear
the helmet, and his the hand that was to grasp the spear ? My
conviction is, that this great subject of religious freedom is not to be
dealt with as one of the ordinary matters in which you may, with
safety or with honour, do to-day and undo to-morrow. This great
people, whom we have the honour to represent, moves slowly in
politics and legislation ; but, although it moves slowly, it moves
steadily. The principle of religious freedom, its adaptation to our
modem state, and its compatibility with ancient institutions, was a
principle which you did not adopt in haste. It was a principle well
tried in struggle and conflict. It was a principle which gained the
assent of one public man after another. It was a principle whicb.
ultimately triumphed, after you had spent upon it half a century
of agonising struggle. And now what are you going to do ? Yoix
have arrived at the division of the century. Are you going to
repeat Penelope's process, but without the purpose of Penelope ^
Are you going to spend the decay and the dusk of the nineteentli
century in undoing the great work which with so much pain att<3
difficulty your greatest men have been achieving during its day-
break and its youth? Surely not. Oh, recollect the functiorus
you have to perform in the face of the world. Recollect tha-t
Europe and the whole of the civilised world look to England s^
this moment not less, no, but even more than ever they looked "t^
her before, as the mistress and guide of nations, in regard to t"!:^^
great work of civil legislation. And what is it they chiefly admL:»€

SPEECH AGAINST THE BILL 418

ii^ Xngland ? It is not the rapidity with which you form constitu-
^i^oi^s and broach abstract theories. On the contrary ; they know
tlxart nothing is so distasteful to you as abstract theories, and that
yo'ii are proverbial for resisting what is new until you are well
assured by gradual effort, by progressive trials, and beneficial
tendency. But they know that when you make a step forward
yoii keep it. They know that there is reality and honesty, strength
and substance, about your proceedings. They know that you are
not a monarchy to-day, a republic to-morrow, and a military des-
potism the day after. They know that you have been happily
preserved from irrational vicissitudes that have marked the career
of the greatest and noblest among the neighbouring nations. Your
fathers and yourselves have earned this brilliant character for
Eflgland. Do not forfeit it. Do not allow it to be tarnished or
impaired. Show, I beseech you — have the courage to show the
po|)e of Rome, and his cardinals, and his church, that England too,
as well as Rome, has her semper eadem; and that when she has
once adopted some great principle of legislation, which is destined
to influence the national character, to draw the dividing lines of
her policy for ages to come, and to affect the whole nature of her
influence and her standing among the nations of the world — show
that when she has done this slowly, and done it deliberately, she
has done it once for all ; and that she will then no more retrace
her steps than the river that bathes this giant city can flow back
upon its source. The character of England is in our hands. Let
us feel the responsibility that belongs to us, and let us rely on it ;
if to4ay we make this step backwards, it is one which hereafter
we shall have to retrace with pain. We cannot change the pro-
found and resistless tendencies of the age towards religious liberty.
It is our business to guide and to control their application ; do this
you may, but to endeavour to turn them backwards is the sport
of children, done by the hands of men, and every effort you may
make in that direction will recoil upon you in disaster and disgrace.
The noble lord appealed to gentlemen who sit behind me, in the
names of Hampden and Pym. I have great reverence for these in
one portion at least of their political career, because they were
men energetically engaged in resisting oppression. But I would
father have heard Hampden and Pym quoted on any other subject

^T.42.

414 RELIGIOUS TOBKADO 1

than one which relates to the mode of legislation or the policy to
be adopted with our Roman catholic fellow-citizens, because, if ther3
1861. ''^^^ ^^® ^^^* ^^ their escutcheon, if there was one painful — I wouldL
almost say odious — feature in the character of the party anion^
whom they were the most distinguished chiefs, it was the bitter^
and ferocious intolerance which in them became the more powerfuL
because it was directed against the Roman catholics alone. I would^
appeal in other names to gentlemen who sit on this side of th^
House. If Hampden and Pym were friends of freedom, so weret
Clarendon and Newcastle, so were the geutlemen who sustained th^
principles of loyalty. . . . They were not always seeking to tightens
the chains and deepen the brand. Their disposition was to relate.
the severity of the law, and attract the affections of their Roma^:^
catholic fellow-subjects to the constitution by treating them a.^
brethren. . . . We are a minority insignificant in point o:^
numbers. We are more insignificant still, because we are bn-fc
knots and groups of two or three, we have no power of cohesioa,
no ordinary bond of union. What is it that binds us together
against you, but the conviction that we have on our side the
principle of justice — the conviction that we shall soon have on oar
side the strength of public opinion {oh, oh!). I am sure I have
not wished to say a syllable that would wound the feelings of any
man, and if in the warmth of argument such expressions should
have escaped me, I wish them unsaid. But above all we are
sustained by the sense of justice which we feel belongs to the
cause we are defending ; and we are, I trust, well determined to
follow that bright star of justice, beaming from the heavens,
whithersoever it may lead.

All this was of no avail, just as the same arguments ancl
temper on two other occasions of the same eternal thenc
in his life,^ were to be of no avail. Disraeli spoke strongl j
against the line taken by the Peelites. The second reading
was carried by 438 against 95, one-third even of this minorit* j
being Irish catholics, and the rest mainly Peelites, ' a limitecl
but accomplished school,' as Disraeli styled them. Huroe
asked Mr. Gladstone for his speech for publication to circula-t^
among the dissenters who, he said, know nothing about

1 Afiarmation bill (1883) and Religious Disabilities Remoyal bill (1891) .

FALL OF THB BUSSBLL GOVBBKMENT 415

f^ligious liberty. It was something, however, to find Mr.
Grl^^^ii^ ^he greatest living churchman, and Bright, the
gireatest living nonconformist, voting in the same lobby, jg^T^
X*be fight was stiff, and was kept up until the end of the
gixxnmer. The weapon that had been forged in this blazing
fixrnace by these clumsy armourers proved blunt and worth-
less ; the law was from the first a dead letter, and it was
struck out of the statute book in 1871 in Mr. Gladstone's
ovm administration.^

in

In the autumn (1851) a committee of the whig cabinet,
now reinforced by the admission for the first time of Lord
Granville, was named to prepare a reform bill. Palmerston,
no friend to reform, fell into restive courses that finally
upset the coach. The cabinet, early in November, settled
that he should not receive Kossuth, and he complied ; but
' he received a public deputation and an address compliment-
ing him for his exertions on Kossuth's behalf. The court
at this proceeding took lively offence, and the Queen
requested the prime minister to ascertain the opinion of the
cabinet upon it. Such an appeal by the sovereign from the
minister to the cabinet was felt by them to be unconstitu-
tional, and though they did not conceal from Palmerston
their general dissatisfaction, they declined to adopt any
resolution. Before the year ended Palmerston persisted in
taking an unauthorised line of his own upon Napoleon's coup
iitat (this time for once not on the side of freedom against
despotism), and Lord John closed a correspondence between
them by telling him that he could not advise the Queen to
leave the seals of the foreign department any longer in his
hands. This dismissal of Palmerston introduced a new

* One of the most illustrious of the 6t6 de cceur et d 'esprit avec ceux qui
£aropean Uberals of the century wrote comme Lord Aberdeen et M. Glad-
to Senior : — stone, se sont opposes au nom de la

Ce que vous me dites que le bill liberty et du principe m^me de la

contre les titres ecd^siastiques ne r^f orme, & ces atteintes ^ la fois vaines

m^nera k rien, me paralt vraisem- et dangereuses que le bill a port^es au

blable, gr&ce aux mceurs du pays, moins en th^orie k IMnd^pendance de

Mais pourquoi faire des lois pires que conscience. Oil se r^fugiera la liberty

les moBurs ? C'est le contraire qui religieuse, si on la chasse de P Angle-

devait §tre. Je vous avoue que j'ai terre? — Tocqueville, Corr, iii. p. 274.

416 PBELITB DIFFICULTIES

BOOK element of disruption and confusion, for the fallen minister
, ^^' ^ had plenty of friends. Lord Lansdowne was very uneasy
1862. abo^t reform, and talked ominously about preferring to be a
supporter rather than a member of the government ; and
whig dissensions, though less acute in type, threatened a
perplexity as sharp in the way of a stable administration, as
the discords among conservatives.

Lord John (Jan. 14, 1852) next asked liis cabinet whether
an offer should be made to Graham. A long discussion
followed ; whether Graham alone would do them any good ;
whether the Peelites, considering themselves as a party,
might join, but would not consent to be absorbed ; whether
an offer to them was to be a persistent attempt in good faith
or only a device to mend the parliamentary case, if the offer
were made and refused. Two or three of the whig ministers,
true to the church traditions of the caste, made great diffi-
culties about the Puseyite notions of Newcastle and Mr.
Gladstone. ' Gladstone,' writes one of them, ' is a Jesuit, and
more Peelite than I believe was Peel himself.' In the end
Lord John Russell and his men met parliament without any
new support. Their tottering life was short, and it was an
amendment moved by Palmerston (Feb. 20) on a clause in
a militia bill, that slit the thread. The hostile majority was
only eleven, but other perils lay pretty thick in front. The
ministers resigned, and Lord Stanley, who had now become ^^
Earl of Derby, had no choice but to give his followers theic*-
chance. The experiment that seemed so impossible whei^
Bentinck first tried it, of forming a new third party in the
state, seemed up to this point to have prospered, and the
protectionists had a definite existence. The ministers were
nearly all new to public office, and seventeen of them were
for the first time sworn of the privy council in a single day.
One jest was that the cabinet consisted of three men and a
half — Derby, Disraeli, St. Leonards, and a worthy fractional
personage at the admiralty.

Sending to his wife at Hawarden a provisional list (Feb.
23), Mr. Gladstone doubts the way in which the offices were
distributed : — 'It is not good, as compared I mean with what
it should have been. Disraeli could not have been worse

FIRST DERBY ADMINISTRATION 417

placed than at the exchequer. Henley could not have been CHAP,
worse than at the board of trade, T. Baring, who would ^ ^^' ^
have been their best chancellor of the exchequer, seems to ^^^^43,
have declined, Herries would have been much better than
Disraeli for that particular place. I suppose Lord Malmes-
bury is temporary foreign secretary, to hold the place for
S. Canning. What does not appear on the face of the case
is, who is to lead the House of Commons, and about that
everybody seems to be in the dark. . . .'

IV

The first Derby administration, thus formed and covering
the year 1852, marks a highly interesting stage in Mr.
Gladstone's career. ' The key to my position,' as he after-
wards said, 'was that my opinions went one way, my
lingering sympathies the other.' His opinions looked to-
wards liberalism, his sympathies drew him to his first
party. It was the Peelites who had now been thrown
into the case of a dubious third party. At the end of
February Mr. Gladstone sought Lord Aberdeen, looking
*to his weight, his prudence, and his kindliness of dis-
position as the main anchor of their section. His tone
has usually been, during the last few years, that of anxiety
to reunite the fragments and reconstruct the conserva-
tive party, but yesterday, particularly at the commencement
of our conversation, he seemed to lean the other way ;
spoke kindly of Lord Derby and wished that he could be
extricated from the company with which he is associated ;
said that though called a despot all his life, he himself had
always been, and was now, friendly to a liberal policy. He
did not, however, like the reform question in Lord John's
fcands ; but he considered, I thought (and if so he differed
from me), that on church questions we all might co-operate
^th him securely.' Mr. Gladstone, on the contrary,
^iisisted that their duty plainly was to hold themselves
^lear and free from whig and Derbyite alike, so as to be pre-
pared to take whatever of three courses might, after the
defeat of protectionist proposals, seem most honourable —
Whether conservative reconstruction, or liberal conjunction,
▼ou I — 2 ■

1862.

418 PEELITB DIFFIGULTIBS

BOOK or Peelism single-handed. The last he described as their
^^' least natural position ; for, he urged, they might be ' liberal
in the sense of Peel, working out a liberal policy through
the medium of the conservative party.* To that pro-
crastinating view Mr. Gladstone stood tenaciously, and
his course now is one of the multitudinous illustrations of
his constant abhorrence of premature committal, and the
taking of a second step before the first.

After Aberdeen he approached Graham, who proceeded
to use language that seemed to point to his virtual returu
to his old friends of the liberal party, for the reader will
not forget the striking circumstance that the new head of
a conservative government, and the most trusted of the
cabinet colleagues of Peel, had both of them begun oflficial
life in the reform ministry of Lord Grey. Graham said lie
had a very high opinion of Lord Derby's talents and char-
acter, and that Lord J. Russell had committed many errors,
but that looking at the two as they stood, he thought that
the opinions of Lord Derby as a whole were more dangerous
to the country than those of Lord John. Mr. Gladstone said
it did not appear to him that the question lay between these
two ; but Graham's reception of this remark implied a
contrary opinion.

Lincoln, now Duke of Newcastle, he found obdurate m
another direction, speaking with great asperity against Lord
Derby and his party ; he would make no vows as to junction,
not even that he would not join Disraeli ; but he thought
this government must be opposed and overthrown ; then
those who led the charge against it would reap the reward; \
if the Peelites did not place themselves in a prominent
position, others would. They had a further conversation.
The duke told him that Beresford, the whip, had sent out
orders to tory newspapers to run them down ; that the same
worthy had said 'The Peelites, let them go to hell.' Mr. Glad-
stone replied that Beresford's language was not a good test
of the feelings of his party, and that his violence and that of
other people was stimulated by what they imagined or heard
of the Peelites. Newcastle persisted in his disbelief in the
government. 'During this conversation, held on a sofa

FOUR 8HADBS OF PEELTTES 419

kt the Carlton, we were rather warm ; and I said to him,

* It appears to me that you do not believe this party to be

composed even of men of honour or of gentlemen." . . • ^t!43.

[le clung to the idea that we were hereafter to form a

)arty of our own, containing all the good elements of both

parties. To which I replied, the country cannot be governed

3y a third or middle party unless it be for a time only,

ind on the whole I thought a liberal policy would be

worked out with greater security to the country through

the medium of the conservative party, and I thought

a position like Peel's on the liberal side of that party

preferable, comparing all advantages and disadvantages,

to the conservative side of the liberal party. And when he

spoke of the torie? as the obstructive body I said not all

of them — for instance Mr. Pitt, Mr. Canning, Mr. Huskisson,

and in some degree Lord Londonderry and Lord Liverpool.'

The upshot of all these discussions was the discovery

that there were at least four distinct shades among the

Peelites. * Newcastle stands nearly alone, if not quite,

in the rather high-flown idea that we are to create and

lead a great, virtuous, powerful intelligent party, neither the

actual conservative nor the actual liberal party but a new

one. Apart from these witcheries, Graham was ready to

take his place in the liberal ranks ; Cardwell, Fitzroy and

Oswald would I think have gone with him, as F. Peel and

Sir C. Douglas went before him. But this section has been

arrested, not thoroughly amalgamated, owing to Graham.

Thirdly, there are the great bulk of the Peelites from Goul-

bum downwards, more or less undisguisedly anticipating

janction with Lord Derby, and avowing that free trade is

their only point of difference. Lastly myself, and I think

I am with Lord Aberdeen and S. Herbert, who have nearly

the same desire, but feel that the matter is too crude, too

difficult and important for anticipating any conclusion, and

that our clear line of duty is independence, until the question

of protection shall be settled.' (March 28, 1852.)

The personal composition of this section deserves a sen-
tence. In 1835, during Peel's short government, the whig
phalanx opposed to it in the House of Commons consisted

420 PEELITE DIFFICULTIES

of John Russell and seven others.^ Of these eight all were
alive in 1851, seven of them in the then existing cabinet; six
1862. ^^ ^^^ eight still in the Commons. On the other hand. Peers
cabinet began its career thus manned in the Commons —
PeeU Stanley, Graham, Hardinge, Knatchbull, Goulburn. Of
these only the last remained in his old position. Peel and
KnatchbuU were dead ; Stanley in the Lords and separated ;
Graham isolated; Hardinge in the Lords and by way of
having retired. Nor was the band very large even as re-
cruited. Of ex-cabinet ministers there were but three
commoners ; Goulburn, Herbert, Gladstone. And of others
who had held important offices there were only available,
Clerk, Cardwell, Sir J. Young, H. Corry. The Lords con-
tributed Aberdeen, Newcastle, Canning,' St. Germains and
the Duke of Argyll. Such, as counted off by Mr. Gladstone,
was the Peelite staff.

Graham in April made his own position definitely liberal,
or * whig and something more,' in so pronounced a way as
to cut him off from the Gladstonian subdivision or main
body of the Peelites. Mr. Gladstone read the speech in
which this departure was taken, ^ with discomfort and sur-
prise.' He instantly went to read to Lord Aberdeen some
of the more pungent passages ; one or two consultations were
held with Newcastle and Goulburn ; and all agreed that
Graham's words were decisive. * I mentioned that some of
them were coming to 6 Carlton Gardens in the course of the
afternoon (April 20); and ray first wish was that now Lord
Aberdeen himself would go and tell them how we stood upon
Graham's speech. To this they were all opposed ; and they
seemed to feel that as we had had no meeting yet, it would
seem ungracious and unkind to an old friend to hold one hy
way of ovation over his departure. It was therefore agreed
that I should acquaint Young it was their wish that he
should tell any one who might come, that we, who were there

1 Namely Palmerston, Spring-Rice, contemporary at Eton and Christ

F. Baring, Charles Wood, Hohhouse, Church, and known to history as

Lahouchere, Lord Howick. governor-general of India in the

^ This, of course, was Charles John Mutiny. Stratford Canning, after-
Earl Canning, third son of Canning wards Lord Stratford de Redclifie,
the prime minister, Mr. Gladstone's was cousin of George Canning.

ATTITUDB OF GRAHAM 421

3sent, looked upon our political connection with Graham
dissolved by the Carlisle speech.' ^
The temporary parting from Graham was conducted with jbx!48.
legree of good feeling that is a pattern for such occasions
politics. In writing to Mr, Gladstone (Mar. 29, 1862), and
making of his colleagues in Peel's government, Graham
rs, 'I have always felt that my age and position were
ferent from theirs : that the habits and connections of my
iy political life, though broken, gave to me a bias, which
them was not congenial ; and since the death of our great
rSter and friend, I have always feared that the time might
ive when we must separate. You intimate the decision
it party connection must no longer subsist between us. I
jmit to your decision with regret ; but at parting I hope
it you will retain towards me some feelings of esteem
I regard, such as I can never cease to entertain towards
11 ; and though political friendships are often short-lived,
iring known each other well, we shall continue, I trust,

maintain kindly relations. It is a pleasure to me to
nember that we have no cause of complaint against each
ler.' ' I have to thank you,' Mr. Gladstone replies, *for the
varying kindness of many years, to acknowledge all the
vrantages I have derived from communication with you,
accept and re-echo cordially your expressions of good will,
i to convey the fervent hope that no act or word of mine
.y ever tend to impair these sentiments in my own mind
yours.'

When the others had withdrawn, Aberdeen told Mr.
adstone that Lord John had been to call upon him the
y before for the first time, and he believed that the visit
d special reference to Mr. Gladstone himself. ' The tenor

his conversation,' Mr. Gladstone reports, 'was that my
inions were quite as liberal as his ; that in regard to the
lonies I went beyond him ; that my Naples pamphlets

Graham spoke of himself as a self to support the ballot, but he

?d reformer and as a member of the admitted it was a hard question, and

eral party, and as glad to find him- said he was not so blind that practi-

f the ally of so faithful a liberal cal experience might not convince

1 reformer as his fellow-candidate, him that he was wrong. (Mar. 26,

would not exactly pledge him- 1852.)

422 PEEUTB DIFFICULTIES

could have been called revolutionary if he had written them ^^
and in regard to church matters he saw no reason why there=g
1862. should not be joint action, for he was cordially disposed to^
maintain the church of England, and so, he believed, was I.^
Lord John, however, we may be sure was the last man not
to know how many another element, besides agreement in
opinion, decides relations of party. Personal sympathies and
antipathies, hosts of indirect affinities having apparently
little to do with the main trunk of the school or the faction,
hosts of motives only half disclosed, or not disclosed at all
even to him in whom they are at work — all these intrude
in the composition and management of parties whether^
religious or political.

Grave discussions turned on new nicknames. The torie^^
had greatly gained by calling themselves conservatives afte^^
1832. The name of whig had some associations that wer^
only less unpopular in the country than the name of torv* .
It was pointed out that many people would on no accoun t
join the whigs, who yet would join a government of which
Russells, Greys, Howards, Cavendishes, Villierses, were
members. On the other hand Graham declared that Paley's
maxim about religion was just as true in politics — that men
often change their creed, but not so often the name of their
sect. And as to the suggestion, constantly made at all times
in our politics for the benefit of waverers, of the name of
liberal-conservative, Lord John caustically observed that
whig has the convenience of expressing in one syllable what
liberal-conservative expresses in seven, and whiggism in two
syllables what conservative progress expresses in six.

Connected with all this arose a geographical question — in
what quarter of the House were the Peelites to sit ? Hitherto
the two wings of the broken tory party, protectionist and Peel-
ite, had sat together on the opposition benches. The change
of administration in 1852 sent the protectionists over to the
Speaker's right, and brought the whigs to the natural place
of opposition on his left. The Peelite leaders therefore had
no other choice than to take their seats below the gangway,
but on which side ? Such a question is always graver than
to the heedless outsider it may seem, and the Peelite discus-

MB. OLADSTONB AND HIS GROUP 428

sions upon it were both copious and vehement.^ Graham

at once resolved on shaiing the front opposition bench with

the whigs : he repeated that his own case was different jBT!4d.

from the others, because he had once been a whig himself.

Herbert, who acted pretty strictly with Mr. Gladstone all

this year, argued that they only held aloof from the new

ministers on one question, and therefore that they ought not

to sit opposite to them as adversaries, but should sit below

the gangway on the ministerial side. Newcastle intimated

dissent from both, looking to the formation of his virtuous

and enlightened third party, but where they should sit in

the meantime he did not seem to know. Mr. Gladstone

expressed from the first a decided opinion in favour of

going below the gangfway on the opposition side. What

they ought to desire was the promotion of a government

conservative in its personal composition and traditions, as

soon as the crisis of protection should be over. Taking a

seat, he said, is an external sign and pledge that ought to

follow upon full conviction of the thing it was understood

to betoken ; and to sit on the front opposition bench would

indicate division from the conservative government as a

party, while in fact they were not divided from them as a

party, but only on a single question. In the end, Graham sat

above the opposition gangway next to Lord John Russell

and Cardwell. The Peelite body as a whole determined on

giving the new government what is called a fair trial. * Mr.

Sidney Herbert and I,' says Mr. Gladstone, 'took pains to

bring them together, in the recognised modes. They sat

on the opposition side, but below the gangway, full, or

about forty strong ; and Sir James Graham, I recollect, once

complimented me on the excellent appearance they had

presented to him as he passed them in walking up the

House.' Considerable uneasiness was felt among some of

them at finding themselves neighbours on the benches

to Cobden and Bright and Hume and their friends on

the one hand, and ' the Irish Brass Band ' on the other.

. * The same question greatly exer- hoped for the reimion of a divided
^ Mr. Gladstone's mind in 1886, party.
^ the same reasoiif that he again

424 PEEUTB DIFFICULTIES

It depended entirely on the Peelites whether the new
government should be permitted to conduct the business of
1862. *^® session (subject to conditions or otherwise), or whether
they should be open to an instant attack as the enemies of
free trade. The effect of such attack must have been defeat,
followed by dissolution forthwith, and by the ejection of the
Derby government in June (as happened in 1859) instead of
in December. The tactics of giving the ministers a fair
trial prevailed and were faithfully adhered to, Graham and
Cardwell taking their own course. As the result of this
and other conditions, for ten months ministers, greatly out-
numbered, were maintained in power by the deliberate and
united action of about forty Peelites.

Lord Derby had opened his administration with a pledge,
as the Peelites understood, to confine himself during the
session to business already open and advanced, or of an ur-
gent character. When Mr. Disraeli gave notice of a bill to
dispose of four seats which were vacant, this was regarded
by them as a manner of opening new and important issues^,
and not within the definition that had been the conditioi^
of their provisional support.^ ' Lord John Russell came an<^
said to me,' says Mr. Gladstone, ' " What will you do ? " ^
admitted we were bound to act ; and, joining the liberals, w^^
threw over the proposal by a large majority. This was th ^^c
only occasion of conflict that arose ; and it was provoked, i^^^
we thought, by the government itself.'

1 This was a bill to assign the four of Lancashire. Mr. Gladstone earned

disfranchlBed seats for Sudbury and the order of the day by a majority of

St. Albans to the West Riding of 86 against the govemment.
Yorkshire and the southern division

CHAPTER VIII

END OP PROTECTION

It 18 not too much to ask that now at least, after so mnch waste of
public time, after ministries overtamed and parties disorganised,
the question of free trade should be placed high and dry on the
shore whither the tide of political party strife could no longer
reach it. — Gladstone.

The parliament was now dissolved (July 1) to decide a great CHAP,
question. The repeal of the corn law, the ultimate equalisa- , ^™*y
tion of the sugar duties, the repeal of the navigation laws, j^^ ^^
had been the three great free trade measures of the last half-
dozen years, and the issue before the electors in 1852 was
^whether this policy was sound or unsound. Lord Derby might
liave faced it boldly by announcing a moderate protection
for com and for colonial sugar. Or he might have openly
told the country that he had changed his mind, as Peel had
changed his mind about the catholic question and about f r6e
trade, and as Mr. Disraeli was to change his mind upon
franchise in 1867, and Mr. Gladstone upon the Irish church
/ in 1868. Instead of this, all was equivocation. The Derbyite,
as was well said, was protectionist in a county, neutral in a
small town, free trader in a large one. He was for Maynooth
in Ireland, and against it in Scotland. Mr. Disraeli did his
best to mystify the agricultural elector by phrases about
set-offs and compensations and relief of burdens, ' seeming
to loom in the future.' He rang the changes on mysterious
new principles of taxation, but what they were to be, he did
not disclose. The great change since 1846 was that the
working-class had become strenuous free traders. They had
in earlier times never been really convinced when Cobden
and Bright assured them that no fall in wages would follow

425

426 END OF PBOTECriON

the promised fall in the price of food. It was the experience
of six years that convinced them. England alone had gone
1862. unhurt and unsinged through the fiery furnace of 1848, and
nobody doubted that the stability of her institutions and the
unity of her people were due to the repeal of bad laws,
believed to raise the price of bread to the toilers in order to
raise rents for territorial idlers.

Long before the dissolution, it was certain that Mr.
Gladstone would have to fight for his seat. His letter to the
Scotch bishop (see above, p. 384), his vote for the Jews, his
tenacity and vehemence in resisting the bill against the
pope, — the two last exhibitions in open defiance of solemn
resolutions of the university con vocation itself, — had alienated
some friends and inflamed all his enemies. Half a score of
the Heads induced Dr. Marsham, the warden of Merton, to
come out. In private qualities the warden was one of the most
excellent of men, and the accident of his opposition to Mr.
Gladstone is no reason why we should recall transient elec-
tioneering railleries against a forgotten worthy. The political
addresses of his friends depict him. They applaud his somid
and manly consistency of principle and his sober attachment
to the reformed church of England, and they dwell with zest
on the goodness of his heart. The issue, as they put it, was
simple: *At a time when the stability of the protestant
succession, the authority of a protestant Queen, and even
the Christianity of the national character, have been rudely
assailed by Rome on one side, and on the other by demo-
cratic associations directed against the union of the Christian
church with the British constitution — at such a time, it
becomes a protestant university, from which emanates a
continuous stream of instruction on all ecclesiastical and
Christian questions over the whole empire, to manifest the
importance which it attaches to protestant truth, by the
selection of a Protestant Hepresentative.^ The teaching
residents were, as always, decisively for Gladstone, and
nearly all the fellows of Merton voted against their own
warden. In one respect this was remarkable, for Mr. Glad-
stone had in 1850 (July 18) resisted the proposal for that
commission of inquiry into the universities which the Oxford

AGAIN ELECTED FOB OXFOBD 427

liberals had much at heart, and it would not have been sur- CHAP.

vnL
prising if they had held aloof from a candidate who had ^ ^ ^

told the House of Commons that 'after all, science was iBT.48.
but a small part of the business of education,' — a proposition
that in one sense may be true, but applied to unreformed
Oxford was the reverse of true. The non-residents were
diligently and rather unscrupulously worked upon, and they
made a formidable set of discordant elements. The evan-
gelicals disliked Mr. Gladstone. The plain high-and-dry
men distrusted him as what they called a sophist. Even
some of the anglo-catholic men began to regard as a bad
friend 'to the holy apostolic church of these realms, the
author of the new theory of religious liberty ' in the Scotch
letter. They reproachfully insisted that had he headed a
party in the House of Commons defending the church, not
upon latitudinarian theories of religious liberty, not upon
vague hints of a disaffected movement of the non-juring
sort, still less upon romanising principles, but on the
principles of the constitution, royal supremacy included,
then the church would have escaped the worst that had
befallen her since 1846. The minister would never have
dared to force Hampden into the seat of a bishop. The
privy council would never have reversed the court of arches
in the Gorham case. The claim of the clergy to meet in
convocation would never have been refused. The committee
of council would have treated education very differently.^
All came right in the end, however, and Mr. Gladstone
^^ re-elected (July 14), receiving 260 votes fewer than
Sir Robert Inglis, but 350 more than the warden of
Merton.^ We have to remember that he was not returned
•8 a liberal.

II

The leaders of the sections out of office, when the general
^lection was over, at once fetched forth line and plummet to
t^e their soundings. ' The next few months,' Mr. Gladstone
^ote to Lord Aberdeen (Aug. 20), ' are, I apprehend, the

1 Charles Wordsworth, Letter to « ingiig^ 1353; Gladstone, 1108;
^ir. Gladstone, 1852, p. 50. Marsham, 758.

428 END OF PBOTECTION

BOOK crisis of our fate, and will show whether we are equal or

TTT

, J unequal to playing out with prudence, honour, and resolu-

1862. ^^^^ ^^ drama or trilogy that has been on the stage tim
1841.' He still regarded the situation as something like a
reproduction of the position of the previous March. The
precise number of the ministerialists could not be ascertained
until tested by a motion in the House. They had gained
rather more than was expected, and some put them as high
as 320, others as low as 290. What was undoubted was that
Lord Derby was left in a minority, and that the support of the
Peelites might any hour turn it into a majority. Notwith-
standing a loss or two in the recent elections, that party still
numbered not far short of 40, and Mr. Gladstone was nattu>
ally desirous of retaining it in connection with himself. Most
of the group were disposed rather to support a conservative
government than not, unless such a government were to do,
or propose, something open to strong and definite objection.
At the same time what he described as the difficulty of
keeping Peelism for ever so short a space upon its legs, was
as obvious to him as to everybody else. ' It will be an im-
possible parliament,' Graham said to Mr. Gladstone (July 15),
* parties will be found too nicely balanced to render a new
line of policy practicable without a fresh appeal to the
electors.' Before a fresh appeal to the electors took place,
the impossible parliament had tumbled into a great war.

When the newly chosen members met in November,
Mr. Disraeli told the House of Commons that * there was
no question in the minds of ministers with respect to the
result of that election : there was no doubt that there was not
only not a preponderating majority in favour of a change in
the laws [free trade] passed in the last few years, or even of
modifying them in any degree ; but that on the contrary there
was a decisive opinion on the part of the country that that
settlement should not be disturbed.' Mr. Gladstone wrote
to Lord Aberdeen (July 30) that he thought the government
absolutely chained to Mr. Disraeli's next budget, and *I, for
one, am not prepared to accept him as a financial organ*
or to be responsible for what he may propose in his present
capacity.' Each successive speech made by Mr. Disraeli at

THE NEW PARLIAMENT 429

Vylesbury he found * more quackish in its flavour than its CHAP.
>redecessor.' Yet action on his own part was unavoidably y ' ,
lampered by Oxford. ' Were I either of opinion,' he told ^j. 43.
;^ord Aberdeen (Aug. 6), 'that Lord John Russell ought to
•ucceed Lord Derby, or prepared without any further develop-
aent of the plans of the government to take my stand as
>ne of the party opposed to them, the first step which, as
I man of honour, I ought to adopt, should be to resign my
eat.' * I do not mean hereby,' he adds in words that were
«)on to derive forcible significance from the march of events,
that I am unconditionally committed against any alliance
)r fusion, but that any such alliance or fusion, to be lawful
[or me, must grow out of some failure of the government
in carrying on public affairs, or a disapproval of its measures
when they shall have been proposed.' He still, in spite of
all the misdeeds of ministers during the elections, could not
think so ill of them as did Lord Aberdeen.

'Protection and religious liberty,' he wrote to Lord Aber-
deen (Aug. 5), 'are the subjects on which my main complaints
would turn ; shufiBing as to the former, trading on bigotry as
to the latter. The shifting and shuffling that I complain of
have been due partly to a miserably false position and the
giddy prominence of inferior men ; partly to the (surely not
unexpected) unscrupulousness and second motives of Mr.
Disraeli, at once the necessity of Lord Derby and his curse.
1 do not mean that this justifies what has been said and
done; I only think it brings the case within the common
limits of political misconduct. As for religious bigotry,' he
continues, ' I condemn the proceedings of the present govern-
ment; yet much less strongly than the unheard-of course
pursued by Lord John Russell in 1850-1, the person to whom
lam now invited to transfer my confidence.' Even on the
superficial conversion of the Derbyites to free trade, Mr.
Gladstone found a tu quoque against the whigs. 'It is,
^hen strictly judged, an act of public immorality to form
md lead an opposition on a certain plea, to succeed, and then
n office to abandon it. . . . But in this view, the conduct
f the present administration is the counterpart and copy of
hat of the whigs themselves in 1835, who ran Sir Robert

480 END OF PBOTBCnOK

Peel to ground upon the appropriation clause, worked it just
while it suited them, and then cast it to the winds ; to say
1862 nothing of their conduct on the Irish Assassination bill of
1846.'

This letter was forwarded by Aberdeen to Lord John
Russell. Lord John had the peculiar temperament that is
hard to agitate, but easy to nettle. So polemical a reading of
former whig pranks nettled him considerably. Why, he asked,
should he not say just as reasonably that Mr. Gladstone
held up the whigs to odium in 1841 for stripping the farmer
of adequate protection ; worked the com law of 1842 as long
as it suited him ; and then turned roimd and cast the com
law to the winds? If he gave credit to Mr. Gladstone foc^
being sincere in 1841, 1842, and 1846, why should not ilr^
Gladstone give the same credit to him ? As to the principle
of appropriation, he and Althorp had opposed four of thei^
colleagues in the Grey cabinet; how could he concede to
Peel what he had refused to them? As for the Irish bill on
which he had turned Peel out, it was one of the worst of al]
coercion bills ; Peel with 117 followers evidently could not
carry on the government ; and what sense could there have
been in voting for a bad bill, in order to retain in office an
impossible ministry ? This smart apologia of Lord John^s
was hardly even plausible, much less did it cover the ground.
The charge against the whigs is not that they took up
appropriation, but that having taken it up they dropped it
for the sake of office. Nor was it a charge that they resisted
an Irish coercion bill, but that having supported it on the
first reading ('worst of all coercion bills' as it was, even in
the eyes of men who had passed the reckless act of 1833),
they voted against it when they found that both Bentinck
and the Manchester men were going to do the same, thus
enabling them to turn Peel out.

Sharp sallies into the past, however, did not ease the
present. It was an extraordinary situation only to be
described in negatives. A majority could not be found to
beat the government upon a vote of want of confidence.
Nobody knew who could take their places. Lord John
Russell as head of a government was impossible, for his

CONFUSIONS OF PARTY 481

xtJLfl^^lroit handling of papal aggression had alienated the CHAP.
^tvi^L ; his dealings with Palmerston had offended one power- ^ j^ j
i^ section of the English whigs ; the Scottish whigs hated j^, 43^
\um as too much managed by the lights of the free church ;
«jid the radicals proscribed him as the chief of a patrician
clique. Yet though he was impossible, he sometimes used
language to the effect that for him to take any place save
the first would be a personal degradation that would lower
him to the level of Sidmouth or Goderich. Lord Palmer-
ston represented the moderate centre of the liberal party.
Even now he enjoyed a growing personal favour out of doors,
not at all impaired by the bad terms on which he was known
to be with the court, for the court was not at that date so
popular an institution as it became by and by. Among other
schemes of ingenious persons at this confused and broken
time was a combination under Palmerston or Lansdowne of
aristocratic whigs, a great contingent of Derbyites, and the
Peelites ; and before the elections it was true that Lord Derby
liad made overtures to these two eminent men. A Lansdowne
combination lingered long in the mind of Lord Palmerston
himself, who wished for the restoration of a whig govern-
ment, but resented the idea of serving under its late head.
Some dreamed that Palmerston and Disraeli might form
a government on the basis of resistance to parliamentary
reform. Strange rumours were even afloat that Mr. Glad-
stone's communications with Palmerston before he left
London at the election had been intimate and frequent. ^ I
cannot make Gladstone out,' said Lord Malmesbury, ^he
seems to me a dark horse.'

In the closing days of the autumn (September 12) Graham
interpreted some obscure language of Mr. Gladstone's as
meaning that if protection were renounced, as it might be,
if Palmerston joined Derby and the government were recon-
structed, and if Disraeli ceased to be leader, then his own
relations with the government would be changed. Gladstone
was so uneasy in his present position, so nice in the equipoise
of his opinions that he wished to be, as he said, ' on the liberal
side of the conservative party, rather than on the conser-
vative side of the liberal party.' A little earlier than this.

482 END OF PBOTBCTION

Lord Aberdeen and Graham agreed in thinking (August)
that ^Disraeli's leadership was the great cause of Glad-
1862. stone's reluctance to have anything to do with the govern-
ment ; . . . that even if this should be removed, it would
not be very easy for him to enter into partnership with
them.' Mr. Gladstone himself now and always denied
that the lead in the Commons or other personal question
had anything to do with the balance of his opinions at the
present and later moments. Those who know most of public
life are best aware how great is the need in the case of public
men for charitable construction of their motives and inteot.
Yet it would surely have been straining charity to the point
of dishonour if, within two years of Peel's death, any of
those who had been attached to him as master and as
friend, either Mr. Gladstone or anybody else, could have
looked without reprobation and aversion on the idea of
cabinet intimacy with the bitterest and least sincere of
all Peel's assailants.

ni

Mr. Gladstone repaired to London some weeks before the
new session, and though he was not in a position to open
direct relations with the government, he expressed to Lord
Hardinge, with a view to its communication to Lord Derby,
his strong opinion that the House of Commons would, and
should, require from ministers a frank and explicit adoption
of free trade through the address, and secondly, the imme-
diate production of their financial measures. Lord Derby
told Hardinge at Windsor that he thought that neither
expectation was far wrong. When the Peelites met at Lord
Aberdeen's to discuss tactics, they were secretly dissatisfied
with the paragraphs about free trade.

Mr. Disraeli had laid down at the election the sonorous ^
maxim, that no statesman can disregard with impunity the ;
genius of the epoch in which he lives. And he now after the i
election averred that the genius of the age was in favour oi
free exchange. Still it was pleasanter to swallow the dose
with as little public observation as possible. * What would
have been said,' cried Lord Derby in fervid remonstrance, ^if

OPENING SKIRMISHES 438

ortly after catholic emancipation and the reform bill CHAP.
,d been admitted as settlements, their friends had come ^ j

»wn and insisted not only that the Houses of parliament ^^^ 43,
ould consent to act on the new policy they had adopted,
it should expressly recant their opinion in favour of the
►licy that had formerly prevailed ? What would the friends

Sir R. Peel have said in 1835 if, when he assumed the
)vernment and when the new parliament assembled, he had
len called upon to declare that the reform bill was wise, just,
id necessary ? ' The original free traders were not disposed
> connive at Derbyite operations any more than were the
higs. Notice was at once given by Mr. Villiers of a motion
irtually assailing the ministers, by asserting the doctrine
[ free trade in terms they could not adopt. * Now,' says
Ir. Gladstone, * we came to a case in which the liberals did
lat which had been done by the government in the case of
le Four Seats bill ; that is to say, they raised an issue
'hich placed us against them. Lord Palmerston moved the
mendment which defeated the attack, but he did this at
ae express request of S. Herbert and mine, and we carried
be amendment to him at his house. He did not recom-
lend any particular plan of action, and he willingly acqui-
sced in and adopted ours.' He said he would convey it to
)i8raeli, ' with whom,' he said, ' I have had communications
rom time to time.'

In the debate (Nov. 26) upon the two rival amendments —
hat of Mr. Villiers, which the ministers could not accept, and
hat of Palmerston, which they could — Sidney Herbert paid
ff some old scores in a speech full of fire and jubilation ; Mr.
jladstone, on the other hand, was elaborately pacific. He
arnestly deprecated the language of severity and exaspera-
ion, or anything that would tend to embitter party warfare,
lis illustrious leader Peel, he said, did indeed look for his
evenge ; but for what revenge did he look ? Assuredly not
Dr stinging speeches, assuredly not for motions made in
ivour of his policy, if they carried pain and degradation to
e minds of honourable men. Were they not celebrating
e obsequies of an obnoxious policy ? Let them cherish no
sire to trample on those who had fought manfully and

VOL. I — 2p

484 BND OF PBOTECTION

been defeated fairly. Rather let them rejoice in the gre^
public good that had been achieved ; let them take couraj
1852. i^om the attainment of that good, for the performance <
their public duty in future. All this was inspired by tl
strong hope of conservative reunion. ' Nervous excitemei
kept me very wakeful after speaking/ says Mr. Gladston
*the first time for many years.' (^IHary.)

Villiers's motion was rejected by 836 to 266, the Peelit^
and Graham voting with ministers in the majority. Tl
Peelite amendment in moderated terms, for which Palme
ston stood sponsor, was then carried against the radicals I
468 to 53. For the moment the government was saved.

This evening, Mr. Gladstone writes on the next day, Nov. 2
I went to Lady Derby's evening party, where Lord Derby too
me a little aside and said he must take the opportunity of thanl
ing me for the tone of my speech last night, which he thongJi
tended to place the discussion on its right footing. It was evident
from his manner, and Lady Derby's too, that they were highlj
pleased with the issue of it. I simply made my acknowledgments
in terms of the common kind, upon which he went on to ask me
what in my view was to happen next ? The great object, he said,
was to get rid of all personal questions, and to consider how all
those men who were united in their general views of government
might combine together to carry on with effect. For himself he
felt both uncertain and indifferent ; he might be able to carry on
the government or he might not; but the question lay beyond
that, by what combination or arrangement of a satisfactory nature,
in the event of his displacement, the administration of public
affairs could be conducted.

To this I replied, that it seemed to me that our situation (meaning
that of Herbert, Goulbum, and others, with myself) in relation U
his government remained much as it was in March and Apri
last. . . . We have to expect your budget, and the productioi
of that is the next step. He replied that he much desired t
see whether there was a possibility of any rapprochement, an
seemed to glance at personal considerations as likely perhaps t
stand in the way [Disraeli, presumably]. I said in reply, that e
doubt there were many difficulties of a personal nature to \

MB. DISBABU'S PBOPOSALS 435

taced in conceiving of any ministerial combination when we looked CUAP.
at the present House of Commons : many men of power and emi- y^]\,
neac5e, but great difficulties arising from various causes, present j^ ^
and past relations, incompatibilities, peculiar defects of character,
or failure in bringing them into harmony. I said that, as to rela-
tions of parties, circumstanees were often stronger than the human
will ; that we must wait for their guiding, and follow it . . . He
said, rather decidedly, that he assented to the truth of this doctrine.
He added, ' I think Sidney said more last night than he intended,
did he not ? ' I answered, * You mean as to one particular expres-
\ sion or sentence ? ' He rejoined, ' Yes.' ^ I said, * I have had no
conversation with him on it, but I think it very probable that he
grew warm and went beyond his intention at that point ; at the
same time, I think I ought to observe to you that I am confi-
dent that expression was occasioned by one particular preceding
speech in the debate.' He gave a significant assent, and seemed
to express no surprise.

IV

The respite for ministers was short. The long day of
shadowy promises and delusive dreams was over ; and the
oracular expounder of mysteries was at last gripped by the
hard realities of the taxes. Whigs and Peelites, men who
had been at the exchequer and men who hoped to be, were
all ready at last to stalk down their crafty quarry. With-
out delay Disraeli presented his budget (Dec. 3). As a
private member in opposition he had brought forward many
financial proposals, but it now turned out that none of them
was fit for real use. With a serene audacity that accounts
for some of Mr. Gladstone's repulsion, he told the House that
he had greater subjects to consider ' than the triumph of
obsolete opinions.' His proposals dazzled for a day, and
then were seen to be a scheme of illusory compensations and

' I suppose this refers to a passage he said or what he believed in those
about Mr. Disraeli : — * For my part years. I only accuse him of having
I acquit the chancellor of the ex- forgotten now what he then wished
chequer, so far as his own convictions it to appear that he believed.' The
are concerned, of the charge of having same speech contains a whimsical
ever been a protectionist. I never for reason why the Jews make no con-
one moment thought he believed in the verts, which the taste of our more
jeast degree in protection. I do not democratic House would certainly
accuse him of having forgotten what not tolerate.

436 END OF PROTBOnON

dislocated expedients. He took off half of the malt-tax and
half of the hop duty, and in stages reduced the tea duty
1862. i^om two shillings and twopence to one shilling. More
important, he broke up the old. frame of the income-tax
by a variation of its rates, and as for the house-tax, he
doubled its rate and extended its area. In one of his
fragmentary notes, Mr. Gladstone says : —

Having run away from protection, as it was plain from the
first they would do, they had little to offer the land, but that
little their minority was ready to accept. It was a measure
essentially bad to repeal half the malt duty. But the flagrantlj
vicious element in Disraeli's budget was his proposal to reduce \he
income-tax on schedule D. to fivepence in the pound, leaviDg
the other schedules at sevenpence. This was no compensation to
the land ; but, inasmuch as to exempt one is to tax another, it was
a distinct addition to the burdens borne by the holders of visible
property. It was on Disraeli's part a most daring bid for the support
of the liberal majority, for we all knew quite well that the current
opinion of the whigs and liberals was in favour of this scheme;
which, on the other hand, was disapproved by sound financiers.
The authority of Pitt and Peel, and then my own study of the
subject, made me believe that it was impracticable, and probablj
meant the disruption of the tax, with confusion in finance, as an
immediate sequitur. What angered me was that Disraeli had
never examined the question. And I afterwards foimd that he
had not even made known his intentions to the board of inland
revenue. The gravity of the question thus raised made me feel
that the day was come to eject the government.

It was upon the increase of the house-tax that the great
battle was finally staked. Mr. Gladstone's letters to his
wife at Hawarden bring the rapid and excited scenes vividly
before us.

6 Carlton Gardens, Dec, 3, 1852. — I write from H. of C. at ^
just expecting the budget. All seem to look for startling and
dangerous proposals. You will read them in the papers of to-
morrow, be they what they may. If there is anything outrageous,
we may protest at once ; but I do not expect any extended debate
to-night. . . . The rush for places in the H. of C. is immense.

ATTACK ON THE BUDGET 437

Monday y Dec. 6. — On Saturday, in the early part of the day, I CHAP.
A a return, perhaps caused by the damp relaxing weather, of the ^ j

uralgic pain in my face, and in the afternoon a long sitting at ^jg^ 43^
)rd Aberdeen's about the budget, during which strange to say
Y pain disappeared, but which kept me past the ordinary post
•ur. These were the causes of your having no letter. The said
dget will give rise to serious difficulties. It is plain enough
at when its author announced something looming in the
stance, he did not mean this plan but something more exten-
f e. Even his reduced scheme, however, includes fundamental
ults of principle which it is impossible to overlook or compound
itn. The first day of serious debate on it will be Friday next,
id a vote will be taken either then or on Monday.
Dec, 8. — Be sure to read Lord Derby's speech on Monday. His
jference to the cause of his quarrel with Lord George Bentinck
as most striking, and is interpreted as a rap at Disraeli.^ I have
ad a long sit with Lord Aberdeen to-day talking over possi-
tilities. The government, I believe, talk confidently about the
iecision on the house-tax, but I should doubt whether they are
ight. Meantime I am convinced that Disraeli's is the least con-
ervative budget I have ever known.

Dec. 14. — I need hardly say the vision of going down to-morrow
tas been dissolved. It has been arranged that I am not to speak
intil the close of the debate ; and it is considered almost certain

0 go on till Monday. Ministers have become much less confident,
rat I understand that some, I know not how many, of Lord John's
aen are not to be relied on.. Whether they win or not (I expect
he latter, but my opinion is navgJU) they cannot carry this
louse-tax nor their budget. But the mischief of the proposals
hey have launched will not die with them.

Dec, 15. — I write in great haste. Though it is Wednesday, I
ave been down at the House almost all day to unravel a device of
Israeli's about the manner in which the question is to be put, by
hich he means to catch votes ; and / think after full consultation

1 * The only serious misunderstand- frank expression of my opinion that
g I ever had with my noble and nothing could be more unfitting nor
nented friend Lord George Ben- more impolitic than to load with
ick, which I am happy to say was terms of yitui>eration those from
oroughly removed before his un- whom we are compelled conscien-
oely death — was upon a full and tiously to differ' (Dec, 6).

488 END OF PROTECTION

BOOK with Malion and Wilson Patten, that this will be accomplished.
^ ^^ J The debate may close to-morrow night. I am sorry to say I have
1852 ^ ^^^^ speech fermenting in me, and I feel as a loaf might in the
oven. The government, it is thought, are likely to be beaten.

Dec. 16. — I have been engaged in the House till close on post
time. Disraeli trying to wriggle out of the question, and get it
put upon words without meaning, to enable more to vote as the?
please, Le, his men or those favourably inclined to him. But he
is beaten in this point, and we have now the right question before
us. It is not now quite certain whether we shall divide to-night;
I hope we may, for it is weary work sitting with a speech ferment-
ing inside one.^

Dec. 18. — I have never gone through so exciting a passage oi
parliamentary life. The intense efforts which we made to obtain,
and the government to escape, a definite issue, were like a i(n^
chase, and prepared us all for excitement. I came home at seven,
dined, read for a quarter of an hour, and actually contrived (onlj
think) to sleep in the fur cloak for another quarter of an hour; got
back to the House at nine. Disraeli rose at 10.20 [Dec 16], and
from that moment, of course, I was on tenterhooks, except when his
superlative acting and brilliant oratory from time to time absorbed
me and made me quite forget that I had to follow him. He spoke
until one. His speech as a whole was grand ; I think the mort
powerful I ever heard from him. At the same time it was dis-
graced by shameless personalities and otherwise ; I had therefore
to begin by attacking him for these. There was a question
whether it would not be too late, but when I heard his per-
sonalities I felt there was no choice but to go on. My great
object was to show the conservative party how their leader was
hoodwinking and bewildering them, and this I have the happiness
of believing that in some degree I effected ; for while among some
there was great heat and a disposition to interrupt me when they
could, I could me in the faces and demeanour of others quite other

1 * We had a preliminary debate to was for doubling the house-tax, no-
have the whole resolution put, instead body was bound by that vote to do
of the preamble only, which was so. It was an attempt at a shuffle in
ultimately agreed to, and placed the order to catch votes from his o?ni
question more fairly before the public, people, and to a certain extent it
Disraeli making the extraordinary succeeded.^ — Halifax 'Pa'ptn^\^^
declaration that though the proposal

THE TWO ANTAGONISTS 489

feelings expressed. But it was a most difficiilt operation, and alto- CHAP.

gether it might have been better effected. The House has not I ^^^^' j

think been so much excited for years. The power of his speech, ^^ 43

and the importance of the issue, combined with the lateness of

the hour, which always operates, were the causes. My brain was

strung very high, and has not yet quite got back to calm, but I slept

well last night. On Thursday night [i.e. Friday morning] after

two hours of sleep, I awoke, and remembered a gross omission I

had made, which worked upon me so that I could not rest any more.

And still, of course, the time is an anxious one, and I wake with

the consciousness of it, but I am very well and really not unquiet.

When I came home from the House, I thought it would be good

for me to be mortified. Next morning I opened the TimeSf which

I thought you would buy, and was mortified when I saw it did

not contain my speech but a mangled abbreviation. Such is

human nature, at least mine. But in the Times of to<lay you

will see a very curious article descriptive of the last scene of the

debate. It has evidently been written by a man who must have

seen what occurred, or been informed by those who did see. He

by no means says too much in praise of Disraeli's speech. I am

told he is much stung by what I said. I am very sorry it fell to

me to say it ; God knows I have no wish to give him pain ; and

really with my deep sense of his gifts I would only pray they

might be well used.

The writer in the Times to whom the victorious orator
here refers describes how, *like two of Sir Walter Scott's
champions, these redoubtable antagonists gathered up all
their force for the final struggle, and encountered each other
in mid-career ; how, rather equal than like, each side viewed
the struggle of their chosen athletes, as if to prognosticate
from the war of words the fortunes of two parties so nicely
balanced and marshalled in apparently equal array. Mr.
Disraeli's speech,' he says, ' was in every respect worthy of
his oratorical reputation. The retorts were pointed and
bitter, the hits telling, the sarcasm keen, the argument in
many places cogent, in all ingenious, and in some convinc-
ing. The merits were counterbalanced by no less glaring
defects of tone, temper, and feeling. In some passages

440 END OF PUOTBCTION

BOOK invective was pushed to the limit of virulence, and in others,
^ ^^^' J meant no doubt to relieve them by contrast, the coarser
jg^2 stimulants to laughter were very freely applied. Occasion-
ally whole sentences were delivered with an artificial voice
and a tone of studied and sardonic bitterness, peculiarly
painful to the audience, and tending greatly to diminish the
effect of this great intellectual and physical effort. The
speech of Mr. Gladstone was in marked contrast. It was
characterised throughout by the most earnest sincerity. It
was pitched in a high tone of moral feeling — now rising to
indignation, now sinking to remonstrance — which was sus-
tained throughout without flagging and without effort. The
language was less ambitious, less studied, but more natural
and flowing than that of Mr. Disraeli; and though com-
mencing in a tone of stern rebuke, it ended in words of
almost pathetic expostulation. . . . That power of persuasion
which seems entirely denied to his antagonist, Mr. Glad-
stone possesses to great perfection, and to judge by the
countenances of his hearers, those powers were very success-
fully exerted. He had, besides, the immense advantage
resulting from the tone of moral superiority which he
assumed and successfully maintained, and which conciliated
to him the goodwill of his audience in a degree neyer
attained by the most brilliant sallies of his adversary, and
when he concluded the House might well feel proud of him
and of themselves.'

A violent thunderstorm raged during the debate, but the
excited senators neither noticed the flashes of lightning nor
heard a tremendous shock of thunder. A little before four
o'clock in the morning (Dec. 17), the division was taken,
and ministers were beaten by nineteen (305 to 286). 'There
was an immense crowd,' says Macaulay, ' a deafening cheer
when Hayter took the right hand of the row of tellers, and
a still louder cheer when the numbers were read.' ^

A small incident occurred a few nights later to show that it

was indeed high time to abate the passions of these six years

and more. A politician of secondary rank had been accused

of bribery at Derby, and a band of tory friends thought the

1 Trevelyan, ii. p. 331.

DEFEAT OF GOYBBKMENT 441

Qoment opportune to give him a banquet at the Carlton. CHAP.
At. Gladstone in another room was harmlessly reading the ^ ^^^' j
>aper. Presently in came the revellers, began to use insult- ^^ ^^
ng language, and finally vowed that he ought to be pitched
leadlong out of the window into the Reform. Mr. Gladstone
aade some courteous reply, but as the reporter truly says,
;ourtesy to gentry in this humour was the casting of
)earl8 before swine. Eventually they ordered candles in
mother room, and left him to himself.^ 'You will per-
laps,' he wrote to his wife, 'see an account of a row at
the Carlton in which I have taken no harm.' The affair
indeed was trivial, but it illustrates a well-known and
striking reflection of Cornewall Lewis upon the assault
perpetrated on Sumner in the Senate at Washington by
Brooks. ' That outrage,' he said, ' is no proof of brutal
manners or low morality in Americans ; it is the first blow
in ^ civil war. ... If Peel had proposed a law not only re-
ducing rents, but annihilating them, instead of being attacked
by a man of words like Disraeli, he would have been at-
tacked with physical arguments by some man of blows. '^

In point of numbers the stroke given to protection was not
tremendous, but as the history of half a century has shown,
it was adequate and suflBcient, and Lord Derby at once re-
signed. He did not take his defeat well. ' Strange to say,'
Mr. Gladstone wrote to his wife, 'Lord Derby has been
making a most petulant and intemperate speech in the
House of Lords on his resignation ; such that Newcastle was
obliged to rise after him and contradict the charge of com-
bination ; while nothing could be better in temper, feeling,
and judgment than Disraeli's farewell.' Derby angrily
divided the combination that had overthrown him into,
first, various gradations of liberalism from ' high aristocratic
md exclusive whigs down to the extremest radical theorists';
lecond, Irish ultramontanes ; and lastly, a party of some
hirty or thirty-five gentlemen ' of great personal worth, of
rreat eminence and respectability, possessing considerable
official experience and a large amount of talent — who once pro-
essed, and I believe do still profess, conservative opinioni^.'
1 Times, Dec. 23, 1862. » Letters, p. 316.

1862.

442 END OF PROTECTIOK

Mr. Disraeli, on the contrary, with infinite polish id
grace asked pardon for the flying words of debate, and im
easy forgiveness from the member whom a few hoars before
he had mocked as ^a weird sibyl'; the other member whoB
he would not say he greatly respected, but whom he greatlj
regarded ; and the third member whom he bade learn M
petulance is not sarcasm, and insolence is not invective.
Lord John Russell congratulated him on the ability and tbe
gallantry with which he had conducted the struggle, and so
the curtain fell. The result, as the great newspaper put it
with journalistic freedom, was * not merely the victorj of i
battle, but of a war; not a reverse, but a conquest. Tie
vanquished have no principles which they dare to assert, do
leaders whom they can venture to trust/

1863-1869
CHAPTER I

THE COALITION

{185S)

The materials necessary for a sound Judgment of facts are not
found in the success or failure of undertakings ; exact knowledge
of the situation that has provoked them forms no inconsiderable
element of history. — Metternich.

Ingland was unconsciously on the eve of a violent break CHAP.
I the peace that had been her fortunate lot for nearly forty y ' j
ears. To the situation that preceded this signal event, a ^t. 44.
idicious reader may well give his attention. Some of the
articulars may seem trivial. In countries governed by
arty, what those out of the actualities of the fray reckon
:ivial often count for much, and in the life of a man
estined to be a conspicuous party leader, to pass them
y would be to leave out real influences.

The first experiment in providing the country with a tory
government had failed. That alliance between whig and
?eelite which Lord John the year before had been unable to
jflFect, had become imperative, and at least a second experi-
ment was to be tried. The initial question was who should
be head of the new government. In August, Lord Aberdeen
had written to Mr. Gladstone in anticipation of the Derbyite
defeat: 'If high character and ability only were required,
ym would be the person ; but I am aware that for the pres-
ent at least this would not be practicable. Whether it
would be possible for Newcastle or me to undertake the
concern is more than I can say.' Other good reasons apart,

443

444 THE COALITION

it is easy to see that Mr. Gladstone's attitude in things
ecclesiastical put him out of court, and though he had made
1868 ^ conspicuous mark not only, as Lord Aberdeen said, by
character and ability but by liberality of view especially in
the region of colonial reform, still he had as yet had no good
opportunity for showing an independent capacity for hand-
ling great affairs.

Not any less impossible was Lord John. Shortly before
the occasion arose, a whig intimate told him plainly that
reconstruction on the basis of his old government was out of
the question. * Lord John's answer was a frank acceptance
of that opinion ; and he was understood to say that the
composition of the next government must be mainly from
the ranks of the Peelites ; he evidently looked forward to
being a member of it, but not the head. When various
persons were named as possible heads, Lord Aberdeen was
distinctly approved, Graham was distinctly rejected, New-
castle was mentioned without any distinct opinion expressed.
We [Aberdeen and Gladstone] were both alike at a loss to
know whether Lord John had changed his mind, or had all
along since his resignation been acting with this view. All
his proceedings certainly seem to require an opposite con-
struction, and to contemplate his own leadership.'^

Lord Palmerston was determined not to serve again under
a minister who had with his own hand turned him out of
ofi&ce, and of whose unfitness for the first post he was at the
moment profoundly convinced. He told a Peelite friend
that Lord John's love of popularity would always lead him
into scrapes, and that his way of suddenly announcing new
policies (Durham letter and Edinburgh letter) without con-
sulting colleagues, could not be acquiesced in. Besides the
hostility of Palmerston and his friends, any government
with the writer of the Durham letter at its head must have
the hostility of the Irishmen to encounter. The liberal
attitude of the Peelites on the still smouldering question of
papal aggression gave Aberdeen a hold on the Irish such as
nobody else could have.

Another man of great eminence in the whig party might
1 Memo, by Mr. Gladstone of a conversation with Aberdeen.

A HABASSBD WEEK 445

ave taken the helm, but Lord Lansdowne was seventy-two,
ind was supposed to have formally retired from office for
jver. The leader of the Peelites visited the patrician whig jg^ ^
at Lansdowne House, and each begged the other to under-
take the uncoveted post. Lord Aberdeen gave a slow
assent. Previously understanding from Lord John that he
would join, Aberdeen accepted the Queen's commission to
form a government. He had a harassed week. At first the
gun shone. ' Lord John consents,' wrote Mr. Gladstone to his
wife at Hawarden, * and has behaved very weU. Palmerston
refuses, which is a serious blow. To-morrow I think we
shall get to detailed arrangements, about which I do not
expect extraordinary difficulty. But I suppose Palmerston
is looking to become the leader of a Derby opposition ; and
without him, or rather with him between us and the con-
servatives, I cannot but say the game will be a very difficult
one to play. It is uncertain whether I shall be chancellor
of the exchequer or secretary for the colonies ; one of the
two I think certainly; and the exchequer will certainly
come to Graham or me.'

Within a few hours angry squalls all but capsized the
boat. Lord John at first had sought consolation in an
orthodox historical parallel — the case of Mr. Fox, though
at the head of the largest party, leading the Commons under
Lord Grenville as head of the government. Why should he,
then, refuse a position that Fox had accepted ? But friends,
often in his case the most mischievous of advisers, reminded
him what sort of place he would hold in a cabinet in which
the chief posts were filled by men not of his own party.
Lord John himself thought, from memories of Bishop Hamp-
den and other ecclesiastical proceedings, that Mr. Gladstone
^ould be his sharpest opponent. Then as the days passed,
he found deposition from first place to second more bitter
than he had expected. Historic and literary consolation can
seldom be a sure sedative against the stings of political ambi-
tion. He changed his mind every twelve hours, and made
^^finite difficulties. When these were with much travail
appeased, difficulties were made on behalf of others. The
^^cred caste and their adherents were up in arms, and a

446 THE COALinOK

bitter cry arose that all the good things were going to the
Peelites, only the leavings to the whigs. Lord John doubt-
1863. ^^^ remembered what Fox had said when the ministry of
All the Talents was made, — ' We are three in a bed. ' Disraeli
now remarked sardonically, ^ The cake is too small. ' To realise
the scramble, the reader may think of the venerable carp
that date from Henry iv. and Sully, struggling for bread
in the fish-ponds of the palace of Fontainebleau. The whigs
of this time were men of intellectual refinement ; they had
a genuine regard for good government, and a decent faith
in reform ; but when we chide the selfishness of machine
politicians hunting ofi&ce in modem democracy, let us con-
sole ourselves by recalling the rapacity of our oligarchies.
^ It is melancholy,' muses Sir James Graham this Christmas
in his journal. * to see how little fitness for office is regarded
on all sides, and how much the public employments are
treated as booty to be divided among successful combatants.'
From that point of view, the whig case was strong. *0f
830 members of the House of Commons,' wrote Lord John
to Aberdeen, ' 270 are whig and radical, thirty are Irish
brigade, thirty are Peelites. To this party of thirty you
propose to give seven seats in cabinet, to the whigs and
radicals five, to Lord Palmerston one,' In the end there
were six whigs, as many Peelites, and one radical. The
case of four important offices out of the cabinet was just as
heartrending : three were to go to the thirty Peelites, and
one to the two hundred and seventy just persons. 'I am
afraid,' cried Lord John, *that the liberal party will never
stand this, and that the storm will overwhelm me.' Whig
pride was deeply revolted at subjection to a prime minister
whom in their drawing-rooms they mocked as an old tory.
In the Aberdeen cabinet, says Mr. Gladstone, * it may be
thought that the whigs, whose party was to supply five-
sixths or seven-eighths of our supporters, had less than their
due share of power. It should, however, be borne in mind
that they had at this juncture in some degree the character
of an used up, and so far a discredited, party. Without
doubt they were sufferers from their ill-conceived and
mischievous Ecclesiastical Titles Act. Whereas we, the

CHANCBLLOB OF THE XXCHEQXJBB 447

Peelites had been for six and a half years out of office, and
had upon jfB the gloss of freshness.'

Lord Palmerston refused to join the coalition^ on the ^44,
honourable ground that for many years he and Aberdeen
had stood at the antipodes to one another in the momentous
department of foreign affairs. In fact he looked in another
direction. If the Aberdeen-Russell coalition broke down^
either before they began the journey or very soon after,
Lord Derby might come back with a reconstructed team,
with Palmerston leading in the Commons a centre party
that should include the Peelites. He was believed to have
something of this kind in view when he consented to move
the amendment brought to him by Gladstone and Herbert
in November, and he was bitterly disappointed at the new
alliance of that eminent pair with Lord John. With the
tories he was on excellent terms. Pall Mall was alive with
tales of the anger and disgust of the Derbyites against
Mr. Disraeli, who had caused them first to throw over their
principles and then to lose their places. The county con-
stituencies and many conservative boroughs were truly
reported to be sick of the man who had promised marvels
as ^ looming in the future,' and then like a bad jockey had
brought the horse upon its knees. Speculative minds cannot
but be tempted to muse upon the difference that the super-
session by Lord Palmerston of this extraordinary genius at
that moment might have made, both to the career of Disraeli
himself, and to the nation of which he one day became for
a space the supreme ruler. Cobden and Bright let it be
understood that they were not candidates for office. ' Our
day has not come yet,' Bright said to Graham, and the
representative of the radicals in the cabinet was Sir William
Molesworth. In their newspaper the radicals wrote rather
stiffly and jealously. In the end Lord Palmerston changed
his mind and joined.

It was three days before the post of the exchequer was
filled. Mr. Gladstone in his daily letter to Hawarden writes :
* At headquarters I understand they say, "Mr. G. destroyed the
budget, so he ought to make a new one." However we are
trying to press Graham into that service.' The next day it

448 THE GOAUTIOK

BOOK was settled. From Osborne a letter had come to Lord
^ ^' ^ Aberdeen: 'The Queen hopes it may be possible to give
1863 ^^® chancellorship of the exchequer to Mr. Gladstone, and
to secure the continuance of Lord St. Leonards as chan-
cellor.'^ Notwithstanding the royal wish, 'we pressed it,'
says Mr. Gladstone, 'on Graham, but he refused point
blank.' Graham, as we know, was the best economist in
the administration of Peel, and Mr. Gladstone's frequent
references to him in later times on points of pure finance
show the value set upon his capacity in this department.
His constitutional dislike of high responsibility perhaps
intervened. Mr. Gladstone himself would cheerfully have
returned to the colonial ofi&ce, but the whigs suspected
the excesses of his colonial liberalism, and felt sure that he
would sow the tares of anglicanism in these virgin fields. So
before Christmas day came, Mr. Gladstone accepted what
was soon in influence the second post in the government,*
and became chancellor of the exchequer.

Say what they would, the parliamentary majority was
unstable as water. His own analysis of the House of
Commons gave 270 British liberals, not very compact, and
the radical wing of them certain to make occasions of com-
bination against the government, especially in finance. The
only other party avowing themselves general supporters of
the government were the forty Peelites — for at that figure
he estimated them. The ministry, therefore, were in a
minority, and a portion even of that minority not always
to be depended on. The remainder of the House he divided
into forty Irish brigaders, bent on mischief ; from fifty to
eighty conservatives, not likely to join in any factious
vote, and not ill-disposed to the government, but not to
be counted on either for attendance or confidence ; finally,
the Derby opposition, from 200 to 250, ready to follow Mr.
Disraeli into any combination for turning out the government.
*It thus appears, if we strike out the fifty conservatives faintly

1 The practical impossibility of * It was not until the rise of Mr.

retaining this learned man, the Gladstone that a chancellor of the

Derbyite chancellor, upon the coali- exchequer, not being prime minister,

tion woolsack, is an illustration of the stood at this high level,
tenacity of the modem party system.

BABLY POSITION OF THE MINISTRY 449

Bivourable, that we have a government with 810 supporters, CHAP,
table on occasions, which frequently arise, to heavy deduc- ^ ^ ^
ions ; with an opposition of 290 (Derbyites and brigaders), jg^ ^
lost of them ready to go all lengths. Such a government
annot be said to possess the confidence of the House of
Commons in the full constitutional sense.'

The general course seemed smooth. Palmerston had gone
0 the harmless department of home affairs. The interna-
Lonal airs were still. But a cabinet finally composed of six
^eelites, six whigs, and a radical, was evidently open to
ountless internal hazards. ^ We shall all look strangely at
jach other,' one of them said, * when we first meet in cabinet.'
[jraham describes them as a powerful team that would need
good driving. * There are some odd tempers and queer
ways among them ; but on the whole they are gentlemen,
and they have a perfect gentleman at their head, who is
honest and direct, and who will not brook insincerity in
others.' The head of the new government described it to a
friend as ^ a great experiment, hitherto unattempted, and of
which the success must be considered doubtful, but in the
meantime the public had regarded it with singular favour.'
To the King of the Belgians, Aberdeen wrote : ' England will
occupy her true position in Europe as the constant advo-
cate of moderation and peace ' ; and to Guizot, that ' the
position which we desired so see England occupy among the
nations of Europe, was to act the part of a moderator, and
by reconciling differences and removing misunderstandings
to preserve harmony and peace.'

I have seen no more concise analysis of the early position
)f the coalition government than that by one of the ablest
md most experienced members of the whig party, not
limself a candidate for ofiBce : —

* It is strong/ Sir Francis Baring wrote to his son, ' in personal
alent ; none that I can remember stronger, though the head of
he government is imtried. It is strong in one point of view : as
> public feeling. The country, I believe, wanted a moderate
beral government, and a fusion of liberal conservatives and
loderate liberals. It is weak in the feelings of the component
VOL. I — 2q

450 THB COALITION

parts : Palmerston is degraded, Gladstone will struggle for power,
Lord John cannot be comfortable. It is weak in the discordant
1853 antecedents of the cabinet ; they must all make some sacrifices and
work uncomfortably. It is weak in the support I do not mean
the numbers, but the class of supporters. The Peelites are forty;
they will have the liberals on the one side and the conservatives
on the other. The whigs of the cabinet will be anxious to satisfy
the former ; the Peelites (Gladstone especially) the other. Thej
are weak in their church views. The protestants look on those
who voted against the Aggression bill with distrust; the
evangelicals on Gladstone and S. Herbert with dislike. I don't j
pretend to be a prophet, but it is always well to put down what
you expect and to compare these expectations with results. Mj
conjecture is that Gladstone will, before long, leave the goyem-
ment or that he will break it up.' ^

Long afterwards Mr. Gladstone himself said this of the
coalition : —

I must say of this cabinet of Lord Aberdeen's that in its
deliberations it never exhibited the marks of its dual origin. Sir
W. Molesworth, its radical member, seemed to be practicaDy
rather nearer in colour to the Peelites than to the whigs. There
were some few idiosyncrasies without doubt. Lord Palmerston,
who was home secretary, had in him some tendencies which might
have been troublesome, but for a long time were not so. It is,
for instance, a complete error to suppose that he asked the cabinet
to treat the occupation of the Principalities as a casus beUu Lord
Russell shook the position of Lord Aberdeen by action most
capricious and unhappy. But with the general course of affairs
this had no connection; and even in the complex and tortuona
movements of the Eastern negotiations, the cabinet never fell into
two camps. That question and the war were fatal to it In itself
I hardly ever saw a cabinet with greater promise of endurance.

n

Acceptance of office vacated the Oxford seat, and the day
after Christmas a thunderbolt fell upon the new /jhancellor

^ From the Baring papers, for which I am indebted to the kindneas d
Lord Northbrook.

OPPOSITION AT OXFORD 461

the exchequer from his friend, the militant archdeacon
Taunton. *I wish to use few words,' Denison wrote,
here every word I write is so bitterly distressing to me, ^^^
1 must be little less so, I cannot doubt, to yourself and
many others whom I respect and love. I have to state
you, as one of your constituents, that from this time
3an place no confidence in you as representative of the
iversity of Oxford, or as a public man.' Mr. Gladstone's
otestations that church patronage would be as safe in
)rd Aberdeen's hands as in Lord Derby's ; that his own
fit history dispensed with the necessity of producing other
surances of his own fidelity ; that his assumption of office
uld not shake it — all these were vain in face of the staring
id flagrant fact that he would henceforth be the intimate
id partner in council of Lord John Russell, the latitudi-
irian, the erastian, the appropriationist, the despoiler ; and
orse still, of Molesworth, sometimes denounced as a
Kjinian, sometimes as editor of the atheist Hobbes, but in
ther case no fit person to dispense the church patronage of
le duchy of Lancaster. Only a degree less shocking was
le thought of the power of filling bishoprics and deaneries
V a prime minister himself a presbyterian. No guarantee
lat the member for Oxford might have taken against
agression upon the church, or for the concession of her
ist claims, was worth a feather when weighed against the
lere act of a coalition so deadly as this.
It was an awkward fact for Mr. Gladstone's canvassers
lat Lord Derby had stated that his defeat was the result
F a concert or combination between the Peelites and other
olitical parties. Mr. Gladstone himself saw no reason
'hy this should cause much soreness among his Oxford
apporters. * No doubt,' he said, * they will remember that
avowed before and during the last election a wish to find
he policy and measures of the government such as would
Qstify me in giving them my support. That wish I
incerely entertained. But the main question was whether
he concert or combination alleged to have taken place for
he purpose of ejecting Lord Derby's government from office
-as fact or fiction. I have not the slightest hesitation in

452 THE COALITION

stating to you that it is a fiction. Evidence for the only
presumption in its favour was this — that we voted against
IS5S, ^^® budget of Mr. Disraeli in strict conformity with every
principle of finance we had professed through our political
lives and with the policy of former finance ministers from
the time of Mr. Pitt, against the " new principles " and " new
policies " wliich Mr. Disraeli declared at Aylesbury his intea-
tion to submit to the House of Commons — a pledge which I
admit that he completely redeemed.'^

All this was true enough, but what people saw was that
the first fruits of the victory were a coalition with the whigs,
who by voting with Villiers had from the first shown their
predetermination against ministers. As Northcote humor-
ously said, Mary Stuart could never get over the presmnp-
tion which her marriage with Bothwell immediately raised
as to the nature of her previous connection with him. It is
hard to deny that, as the world goes, the Oxford tones
clerical and lay might think they had a case. Lord Derby
was the tory minister, and Mr. Gladstone had been a chief
instrument in turning him out. That was the one saliea^
fact, and the political flock is often apt to see a thing with
a more single eye than their shepherds.

A candidate was found in Mr. Perceval, son of the tory
prime minister who had met a tragic death forty year-s
before. The country clergy were plied with instigations aii<3
solicitations, public and private. No absurdity was too
monstrous to set afloat. Mr. Gladstone had seceded to i\xe
episcopal church of Scotland. He had long ceased to be 3
communicant. He was on close and intimate terms witt
Cardinal Wiseman. He had incited the pope to persecut:*
protestants at Florence. In this vein a flight of angry articles
and circulars descended on every parsonage where there was
an Oxford master of arts with his name still on the university
books. At the beginning the enemy by a rush were in a
majority, but they were speedily beaten out of it. At the end
of six days, in spite of frenzied efforts, no more than 1330
votes out of a constituency of 3600 had been recorded. StiU
the indomitable men insisted on the legal right of keeping the .
^ Times, December 23, 1862. i

OPPOSITION AT OXFORD 463

>oll open for fifteen days, and learned persons even gloomily CHAP,
linted that the time might be extended to forty days. In , ^ ,
:he end (Jan. 20) Mr. Gladstone had 1022 votes against ^£,,44
Perceval's 898, or a narrow majority of 124. The tory press
ustly consoled themselves by calculating that such a
najority was only six per cent, of the votes polled, but they
.vere very angry with the failure of the protestant electors
in doing their patriotic duty against *the pro-romanist
candidate.' The organ of the Peelites, on the other hand,
was delighted at the first verdict thus gained from the most
influential constituency in Great Britain, in favour of the
new experiment of conservative-liberalism and wise and
rational progress. Graham said, and truly, that though
Gladstone's defeat at that precise juncture would have been
a misfortune, yet for his own sake hereafter, emancipa-
tion from the thraldom of that constituency would be a
)lessing. It is a millstone under which even Peel would
lave sunk.'

Was Mr. Gladstone right in his early notion of himself as
t slow moving mind ? Would it be true to say that, com-
>ared with Pitt, for instance, he ripened slowly? Or can we
accurately describe him as having in any department of life,
thought, knowledge, feeling, been precocious ? Perhaps not.
To speak of slowness in a man of such magical rapidity of
intellectual apprehension would be indeed a paradox, but we
have seen already how when he is walking in the middle path
of his years, there is a sense in which he was slow in char-
acter and motion. Slowness explains some qualities in his
literary and oratorical form, which was often, and especially
up to our present period, vague, ambiguous, and obscure.
The careless and the uncharitable set all down to sophistry.
Better observers perceived that his seeming mystifications
were in fact the result of a really embarrassed judgment.
They pointed out that where the way was clear, as in free
trade, colonial government, dissenters' chapels, Jewish dis-
abilities, catholic bishoprics, nobody could run more straight,
at higher speed, or with more powerful stride. They began
to say that in spite of Russells, Palmerstons, Grahams, Mr.
Gladstone, after all, was the least unlikely of them ' to turn

454 THE COAUnOK

out a thoroughgoing man of the people/ These anticipatioi%^
of democracy there is no sign that Mr. Gladstone himsel:]
jg^ in the smallest degree, shared. The newspapers, meanwhile
were all but unanimous in declaring that ^if experience
talent, industry, and virtue, are the attributes required fo^-
the government of this empire,' then the coalition goveri^^
ment would be one of the best that England had ever
seen.

m

Mr. Gladstone's dislike and distrust of the intrusion not
only of the rude secular arm, but of anything temporal into
the sphere of spiritual things, had been marked enough in
the old days of battle at Oxford between the tractarians and
the heads, though it was less manifest in the Gorham case.
In 1863 he found occasion for an honourable exhibition of
the same strong feeling. Maurice had got into trouble with
the authorities at King's College by essays in which he was
taken to hold that the eternity of the future torment of the
wicked is a superstition not warranted by the Thirty-nine
Articles. A movement followed in the council of the college
to oust Maurice from his professorial chair. Mr. Gladstone
took great pains to avert the stroke, and here is the story as
he told it to his brother-in-law. Lord Lyttelton : —

To Lord Lyttelton.

Oct, 29, 1853. — I remained in town last Thursday in order "ti^o
attend the council of K.C., and as far as I could, to see fair pla.,^
I was afraid of a very precipitous proceeding, and I regret to s^fcrJ
my fears have been verified. The motion carried was the Bisbc^^
of London's, but I am bound to say he was quite willing to haW^
waived it for another course, and the proceeding is due to a bodU
of laymen chiefly lords. The motion carried is to the effect th^^
the statements on certain points contained in Maurice's last essa^--
are of a dangerous character, and that his connection with th:^
theology of the school ought not to continue. I moved as g^
amendment that the bishop be requested to appoint compete ^
theologians who should personally examine how far the statement

DEFENOB OF MAX7BI0E 456

Sbir. Maurice were conformable to or at variance with the three

eds and the formuhiries of the church of England, and should

ke a report upon them, and that the bishop should be requested j^[ ^^

c^ommunioate with the council. For myself I find in different

rts of what Maurice has written things that I cannot, and I am

Lte certain the council had not been able to, reconcile. This

isideration alone seemed to me to show that they were not in

condition to proceed with a definite judgment. I do not feel

[Bciently certain what his view as a whole may be, even if I

re otherwise competent to judge whether it is within or beyond

3 latitude allowed by the church in this matter. And inde-

ndently of all this I thought that even decency demanded of

e council, acting perforce in a judicial capacity, that they should

; the accused person know in the most distinct terms for wJuU

was dismissed, and should show that they had dismissed him,

at all, only after using greater pains to ascertain that his
inions were in real contrariety to some article of the faith. I
50 cherished the hope, founded on certain parts of what he has
id, that his friends might be able in the meantime to arrange
me formula concordice which might avert the scandal and mischief

the dismissal. Sir J. Patteson, Sir B. Brodie, and Mr. Green
pported the amendment, but the majority went the other way,
id much was I grieved at it. I am not inclined to abate the
►gmatic profession of the church — on the contrary, nothing would
duce me to surrender the smallest fraction of it; but while
a.lous of its infraction in any particular, I am not less jealous of
.e obtrusion of any private or local opinion into the region of
>gma ; and above all I hold that there should be as much rigour

a trial of this kind, irrespective of the high character and dis-
nguished powers of the person charged in this particular case, as

he were indicted for murder.^

Long afterwards, when the alleged heretic was dead,
tr. Gladstone wrote of him to Mr. Macmillan (April 11,
384) : ' Maurice is indeed a spiritual splendour, to borrow
le phrase of Dante about St. Dominic. His intellectual
Dnstitution had long been, and still is, to me a good deal

^ See Life of Maurice^ ii.p. 195 ; Life also Mr. Gladstone's letter to Bishop
'^ Wilberforce, ii. pp. 208-218. See Hampden, 1850, above p. 168.

456 THE COALITION

of an enigma. When I remember what is said and
thought of him, and by whom, I feel that this must be
1863. greatly my own fault.' Some years after the aflfair at
King's College, Maurice was appointed to Vere Street^
and the attack upon him was renewed. Mr. Gladstone
was one of those who signed an address of recognition^
and congratulation.

CHAPTER II

THB TBIUMPH OF 1863
{186S)

Ws have not sought to evade the difficulties of our position. . . •
We have not attempted to counteract them by narrow or flimsy
expedients. . . . We have proposed plans which will go some way
towards closing up many vexed financial questions. . . . While
we have sought to do justice to intelligence and skill as compared
with property — while we have sought to do justice to the great
labouring community by further extending their relief from in-
direct taxation, we have not been guided by any desire to set one
class against another. — Gladstone (1853).

R. Gladstone began this year, so important both to him-
li and to the country, with what he described as a short
X active and pleasant visit to Oxford. He stayed at j^ ^
irist Church with Dr. Jacobson, of whom it was observed
at he always looked as if on the point of saying something
tremely piercing and shrewd, only it never came. He
.id many calls, dined at Oriel, had a luncheon and made
speech in the hall at Balliol ; passed busy days and brisk
enings, and filled up whatever spare moments he could
id or manufacture, with treasury papers, books on taxa-
DD, consolidated annuities, and public accounts, alternating
ith dips into Lamennais — the bold and passionate French
Tstic, fallen angel of his church, most moving of all the
)iritual tragedies of that day of heroic idealists.
On February 3 he moved into the house of the chancellor
■ the exchequer in that best known of all streets which is
5t a street, where he was destined to pass some two and
i^enty of the forty-one years of the public life that lay
'fore him. He had a correspondence with Mr. Disraeli,
8 predecessor, on the valuation of the furniture in

457

468 THE TRIUMPH OF 1868

the official house. There was question, also, of the robe
that passes down under some law of exchange from one
1863. chancellor to another on an apparently unsettled footing.
The tone on this high concern was not wholly amicable-
Mr. Gladstone notes especially in his diary that he wrote
a draft of one of his letters on a Sunday, as being, F
suppose, the day most favourable to self-control ; while
Mr. Disraeli at last suggests that Mr. Gladstone should
really consult Sir Charles Wood, 'who is at least a man
of the world.' Such are the angers of celestial minds.

At an early cabinet (Feb. 5) he began the battle that lasted
in various shapes all the rest of his life. It was on a questioix
of reducing the force in the Pacific. ' Lord Aberdeen, Gran-
ville, Moles worth, and I were for it. We failed.' What was
the case for this particular retrenchment I do not know, nor*
does it matter. Fiercer engagements, and many of them^
were to follow. Meanwhile he bent all the energfies of hi^
mind to the other front of financial questions — to raising
money rather than expending it, and with unwearied
industry applied himself to solve the problem of redis-
tributing the burdens and improving the machinery of
taxation.

For many years circumstances had given to finance a
lively and commanding place in popular interest. The
protracted discussion on the corn law, conducted not only
in senate and cabinet, but in country market-places and
thronged exchanges, in the farmer's ordinary and at huge
gatherings in all the large towns in the kingdom, had
agitated every class in the community. The battle between
free trade and protection, ending in a revolution of our com-
mercial system, had awakened men to the enormous truth,
as to which they are always so soon ready to relapse into
slumber, that budgets are not merely affairs of arithmetic,
but in a thousand ways go to the root of the prosperity of
individuals, the relations of classes, and the strength of
kingdoms. The finance of the whigs in the years after
the Reform bill had not only bewildered parliament, but
had filled merchants, bankers, shipowners, manufacturers,
shopkeepers, and the whole array of general taxpayers with

FISCAL CONFUSION 459

srplexity and dismay. Peel recovered a financial equilib- chap.
:VLm and restored public confidence, but Peel was gone. ^ ^' j
'be whigs who followed him after 1846 had once more jet.44.
iklx)ured under an unlucky star in this vital sphere of
Ational affieurs. They performed the unexampled feat of
►ringing forward four budgets in a single year, the first
.f them introduced by Lord John Russell himself as prime
dinister. By 1851 floundering had reached a climax,
•^inance had thus discredited one historical party; it had
►roken up the other. It was finance that overthrew weak
;oiremments and hindered the possibility of a strong one.

Mr. Disraeli, the most unsparing of all the assailants of
'eel, tried his own hand in 1852. To have the genius
^nd the patience of a great partisan chief is one gift, and
liis he had; to grasp the complex material interests of
k vast diversified society like the United Kingdom demands
powers of a different order. The defeat of Mr. Disraeli's
budget at the end of 1852 seemed to complete the circle of
fiscal confusion. Every source of public income was the
object of assault. Every indirect tax was to be reduced or
swept away, and yet no two men appeared to agree upon
the principles of the direct taxes that were to take their
place. The window duty, the paper duty, the tax on
advertisements, the malt-tax, the stamp on marine insur-
ances, were all to vanish, but even the most zealous
reformers were powerless to fill the void. The order-book
of the House of Commons was loaded with motions about
the income-tax, and an important committee sat in 1851 to
consider all the questions connected with the possibility
of its readjustment and amendment. They could not even
frame a report. The belief that it was essentially unjust to
impose the tax at one and the same rate upon permanent and
temporary incomes, prevailed in the great mass, especially of
the liberal party. Discussions arose all through this period,
descending not only to the elementary principles of taxa-
tion, but, as Mr. Gladstone said, almost to the first principles
of civilised society itself. Party distraction, ministerial em-
barrassment, adjournment after adjournment of a decision
upon fundamental maxims of national taxation — such was

460 THE TBIUXPH OF 1853

the bewildered scene. At last a statesman appeared, ^
financier almost by accident (for, as we have seen, it was W
1S63. QO special choice of his own that Mr. Gladstone went to
the exchequer), but a financier endowed with a practical
imagination of the highest class, with a combination of the
spirit of vigorous analysis and the spirit of vigorous system,
with the habit of unfiagging toil, and above all, with the
g^ft of indomitable courage. If anybody suggested the r&.
appointment of Hume's committee, the idea was wisely
dismissed. It was evidently, as Graham said, the duty of
the executive government to lead the way and to guide
public opinion in a matter of this crucial importance. It
seemed impossible and unworthy to avoid a frank decUrar
tion about the income-tax. He was strongly of opinion
(March 15) that a larger measure would be carried with.
gp-eater certainty and ease than simple renewal; and tha^
a combination of income-tax, gradually diminishing to si
fixed term of extinction, with reduction of the interest oi
debt, and a review of the probate and legacy duties, afford&ci
the best ground for a financial arrangement both successfijxl
and creditable. It was strong ideas of this kind that ecm-
couraged Mr. Gladstone to build on a broad foundation.

The nature of his proceedings he set out in one of tl=&(
most interesting of his political memoranda: —

The liberals were, to all appearance, pledged to the reconstn:i.e
tion of the tax by their opinions, and the tones by their partrj
following. The small fraction of Peelites could probably be
relied upon the other way, and some few individuals with finaneia/
knowledge and experience. The mission of the new government
was described by Lord Aberdeen in the House of Lords as a
financial mission, and the stress of it thus lay upon a person very
ill-prepared. My opinions were with Peel; but imder such
circumstances it was my duty to make a close and searching
investigation into the whole nature of the tax, and make up mj
mind whether there was any means of accepting or compounding
with the existing state of opinion. I went to work, and laboured
very hard. When I had entered gravely upon my financial j
studies, I one day had occasion — I know not what — to go into the

THE FABBIO PLANNED 461

-ty and to call upon Mr. Samuel Gurney, to whom experience CHAP.
n.d cliaracter had given a high position there. He asked me with ^_^'y
interest about my preparations for my budget ; and he said, ' One ^^ ^^
thing I will venture to urge, whatever your plan is, — let it be
simple.' I was a man much disposed to defer to authority, and I
attached weight to this advice. But as I went further and
further into my subject, I became more and more convinced that,
as an honest steward, I had no option but to propose the renewal
of the tax in its uniform shape. I constructed much elaborate
argument in support of my proposition, which I knew it would be
difficult to answer. But I also knew that no amount of unassisted
argument would suffice to overcome the obstacles in my way, and
that this could only be done by large compensations in my
accompanying propositions. So I was led legitimately on, and
on, until I had framed the most complicated scheme ever sub-
mitted to parliament.

Truly has it been said that there is something repulsive to

luman nature in the simple reproduction of defunct budgets.

[Certainly if anything can be more odious than a living

;&x, it is a dead one. It is as much as is consonant to

biography to give an outline of the plan that was gradually

wrought out in Mr. Gladstone's mind during the first three

laborious months of 1853, and to mark the extraordinarily

far-reaching and comprehensive character of the earliest of

his thirteen budgets. Its initial boldness lay in the adoption

of the unusual course of estimating the national income

roughly for a long period of seven years, and assuming that

expenditure would remain tolerably steady for the whole of

that period. Just as no provident man in private life settles

his establishment on the basis of one year or two years only,

so Mr. Gladstone abandoned hand-to-mouth, and took long

views. *I ought, no doubt,' he said afterwards, *to have

pointed out explicitly that a great disturbance and increase

of our expenditure would bafBe my reckonings.' Meanwhile,

the fabric was planned on strong foundations and admirable

lines. The simplification of the tariff of duties of customs,

begun by Peel eleven years before, was carried forward

almost to completion. Nearly one hundred and forty duties

462 THB TRIUMPH OF 1868

BOOK were extinguished, and nearly one hundred and fifty were
^ ^' J lowered. The tea duty was to be reduced in stages ex-
1868. tending over three years from over two shillings to one
shilling. In the department of excise, the high and
injurious duty on soap, which brought into the exchequer
over eleven hundred thousand pounds annually, was swept
entirely away. In the same department, by raising the
duties on spirits manufactured in Ireland nearer to Uie
level of England and Scotland, a step was taken towards
identity of taxation in the three kingdoms — by no means ui
unequivocal good. Miscellaneous provisions and minor
aspects of the scheme need not detain us; but a great
reform of rate and scale in the system of the assessed
taxes, the reduction of the duty on the beneficent practice
of life insurance from half-a-crown to sixpence on the
hundred pounds, and the substitution of a uniform receipt
stamp, were no contemptible contributions to the comfort
and well-being of the community. Advertisements in news-
papers became free of duty.^

The keystone of the budget in Mr. Gladstone's conception
was the position to be assigned in it to the income-tax. This
he determined to renew for a period of seven years, — for two
years at sevenpence in the pound, for two years more at
sixpence, and for the last three at fivepence. By that time
he hoped that parliament would be able to dispense with it
Meanwhile it was to be extended to Ireland, in compensa-
tion for the remission of a debt owed by Ireland to the
British treasury of between four and five millions. It was
to be extended, also, at a reduced rate of fivepence, to in-
comes between a hundred and fifty and a hundred pounds—
the former having hitherto been the line of total exemption.
From the retention of the income-tax as a portion of the pe^
manent and ordinary finance of the country the chancellor
of the exchequer was wholly and strongly averse, and so he
remained for more than twenty years to come. In order,

^ A curious parliamentary incident substitute zero for sixpence in the

occurred. The original proposal was clause. The Speaker ruled that this

to reduce the duty from eighteen- reversal of the previous vote was oat

pence to sixpence. A motion to re- out of order, and it was carried by

peal it altogether was rejected by nine,
ten. Then a motion was made to

KEYSTONE OF THE BUDGET 463

:>^ever, to meet a common and a just objection, that under
^is impost intelligence, enterprise, and skill paid too much
nd property paid too little, he resolved upon a bold step, j^^^^
le proposed that the legacy duty, hitherto confined to
personal property passing on death, either by will or by
iaheritance and not by settlement, should henceforth be
extended to real property, and to both descriptions of
property passing by settlement, whether real or personal.
In a word, the legacy duty was to extend to all successions
whatever. This was the proposal that in many senses cut
deepest. It was the first rudimentary breach in the ram-
parts of the territorial system, unless, indeed, we count as
first the abolition of the com law.^ Mr. Gladstone eagerly
disclaimed any intention of accelerating by the pressure of
fiscal enactment changes in the tenure of landed property,
and the letters which the reader has already seen (pp. 345-9)
show the high social value that he invariably set upon the
maintenance of the old landed order. The succession duty,
as we shall find, for the time disappointed his expectations,
for he counted on two millions, and in fact it yielded little
more than half of one. But it secured for its author the
lasting resentment of a powerful class.

Such was the scheme that Mr. Gladstone now worked out
in many weeks of toil that would have been slavish, were it
not that toil is never slavish when illuminated by a strenuous
purpose. When by and by the result had made him the
hero of a glorious hour, he wrote to Lord Aberdeen (April
19) : * I had the deepest anxiety with regard to you, as our
chief, lest by faults of my own I should aggravate the cares
and difficulties into which I had at least helped to bring
you; and the novelty of our political relations with many
of our colleagues, together with the fact that I had been
myself slow, and even reluctant, to the formation of a new
connection, filled me with an almost feverish desire to do no
injustice to that connection now that it was formed ; and to
redeem the pledge you generously gave on my behalf, that
there would be no want of cordiality and zeal in the discharge

J Some may place first the Act of 1833 making real estate liable for
limple contract debts.

464 THE TRIUMPH OF 1853

of any duties which it might fall to me to perform on behalf
of such a government as was then in your contemplation/
1868. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen hours a day he toiled at his
desk. Treasury officials and trade experts, soap deputations
and post-horse deputations, representatives of tobacco and
representatives of the West India interest, flocked to Down-
ing Street day by day all through March. If he went into
the city to dine with the Lord Mayor, the lamentable hole
thus made in his evening was repaired by working till four
in the morning upon customs reform, Australian min^
budget plans of all kinds. It is characteristic that even
this mountain load of concentrated and exacting labour
did not prevent him from giving a Latin lesson every day
to his second boy.

n

^ Some days before the day appointed for my statement,*
says Mr. Gladstone, * I recited the leading particulars to my
able and intelligent friend Cardwell, not in the cabinet but
then holding office as president of the board of trade. He
was so bewildered and astounded at the bigness of the
scheme, that I began to ask myself, Have I a right to ask
my colleagues to follow me amidst all these rocks and
shoals? In consequence I performed a drastic operation
upon the plan, and next day I carried to Lord Aberdeen a
reduced and mutilated scheme which might be deemed by
some politicians to be weaker but safer. I put to Lord
Aberdeen the question I had put to myself, and stated my
readiness, if he should think it called for, to make this
sacrifice to the probable inclinations of my colleagues. But
he boldly and wisely said, " I take it upon myself to ask you
to bring your original and whole plan before the cabinet"
I thought this an ample warrant.'

At last, after Mr. Gladstone had spent an hour at the
palace in explaining his scheme to the Prince Consort, the
budget was opened to the cabinet (April 9) in a speech
of three hours — an achievement, I should suppose, un-
paralleled in that line, for a cabinet consists of men each
with pretty absorbing pre-occupations of his own. The

THE BUDGET IN OABINET 465

:position was *a8 ingenious,' Lord Aberdeen told Prince chap.
Ibert, *as clear, and for the most part as convincing, as ^ ^^' ,
lything I have ever heard.' ' Gladstone,' said Lord Aber- j^^ 44
3en later (1866) ' does not weigh well against one another
Lfierent arguments, each of which has a real foundation.
,ut he is unrivalled in his power of proving that a specious
rgument has no real foundation. On the Succession bill
tie whole cabinet was against him. He delivered to us
luch the same speech as he made in the House of Com-
30US. At its close we were all convinced.' ^

Differences that might easily become serious speedily
.rose upon details in the minds of two or three of
hem, and for some days the prime minister regarded
he undertaking as not only difficult but perilous. Sir
"harles Wood, in cabinet (April 11), strongly disapproved
)f the extension of income-tax to Ireland, and to the
.owering of the exemption line. On Ireland the plan
sirould lay more than half a million of new taxation,
vehereas much of the relief, such as soap and assessed taxes,
would not touch her.^ Palmerston thought it a great plan,
perfectly just, and admirably put together, only it opened too
many points of attack, and it could never be carried : Disraeli
was on the watch, the Irish would join him, so would the
radicals, while the succession duty, to which Palmerston
individually had great objection, would estrange many con-
servatives. Lord John Russell perceived difficulties, but he
did not see an alternative. Graham then fell in, disliked the
twofold extension of the income-tax, and thought they should
only take away half the soap-tax. Lord Lansdowne (a great
Irish landlord) agreed with him. Mr. Gladstone told them
that he was willing to proix)se whatever the cabinet might
decide on, except one thing, namely, the breaking up of the
basis of the income-tax : that he could not be a party
to; he should regard it as a high political offence. With
this reservation he should follow their judgment, but he
strongly adhered to his whole plan. Lord Aberdeen said,
* You must take care your proposals are not unpopular ones.'

J Mrs. Simpson's Many Memories, ^ For paper on Irish income-tax,
). 237. see Appendix.

TOL. I — 2h

466 THE TRIUMPH OF 1863

Mr. Gladstone replied that it was after applying the test of
popularity, that he was convinced the budget would be
1863. damaged beforehand by some of the small changes that had
been suggested.

At the end of a long and interesting discussion, there
stood for the whole budget Lord John, Newcastle, Clarendon,
Molesworth, Gladstone, with Argyll and Aberdeen more or
less favourable ; for dropping the two extensions of income-
tax and keeping half the soap duty, Lansdowne, Graham,
Wood ; more or less leaning towards them, Palmerston and
Granville. They agreed to meet again the next day (April
12), when they got into the open sea. Wood stuck to his
text. Lansdowne suggested that an increased spirit du^
and an income-tax for Ireland together would be something
like a breach of faith. Palmerston thought they would be
beaten, but he would accept the budget provided they
were not to be bound to dissolve or resign upon such a point
as to the two extensions of the income-tax. Lord John Siiid
that if they were beaten on differentiating the tax, they
would have to dissolve. Palmerston expressed his indi-
vidual opinion in favour of a distinction for precarious
incomes, and would act in that sense if he were out of the
government ; as it was, he assented. Argyll created a diver-
sion by suggesting the abandonment of the Irish spirit duty.
Mr. Gladstone admitted that he thought the spirit duty the
weakest point of the plan, though warrantable and tenable
on the whole. At last, after further patient and searching
discussion, the cabinet finding that the suggested amend-
ments cut against one another, were for adopting the entire
budget, the dissentients being Lansdowne, Graham, Wood,
and Herbert. Graham was full of ill auguries, but said
he would assent and assist. Wood looked grave, and mu^
mured that he must take time.

In the course of these preliminaries Lord John Russell
had gone to Graham, very uneasy about the income-tax.
Graham, though habitually desponding, bade him be of
good cheer. Their opponents, he said, were in numbers
strong ; but the budget would be excellent to dissolve upon,
and Lord John admitted that they would gain forty seats.

CABINET MISOIVINGS 467

hey agreed, however, in Graham's language, that it would chap.
ever do to play their trump card until the state of the ^ ^' j
%me actually required it. Lord John confessed that he ^^ ^
as no judge of figures, — somewhat of a weakness in a critic
: a budget, — and Graham comforted him by the reply
lat he was at any rate the best judge living of House of
ommons tactics.

The position of the government in the House of Commons
as notoriously weak. The majority that had brought
lem into existence was excessively narrow. It had been
rell known from the first that if any of the accidents of

session should happen to draw the tories, the Irish, and
be radicals into one lobby, ministers would find themselves
a a minority. Small defeats occurred. The budget was
aly four days off. Mr. Gladstone enters in his diary :
Spoke against Gibson; beaten by 200-169. Our third
Lme this week. Very stiff work this. EUice said dis-
olution would be the end of it; we agreed in the House
o a cabinet to-morrow. Herbert and Cardwell, to whom I
poke, inclined to dissolve.' Next day (April 16), the cabinet
net in a flutter, for the same tactics might well be repeated,
wrhenever Mr. Disraeli should think the chances good.

Lord John adverted to the hostility of the radicals as
exhibited in the tone of the debate, and hinted the opinion
that they must take in a reef or two. Mr. Gladstone doubted
whether the budget could live in that House, whatever form
it might assume; but even with such perils he should
look upon the whole budget as less unsafe than a partial
contraction. Graham took the same view of the disposi-
tion of parliament: keen opposition; lukewarm support;
the necessity of a greater party sympathy and connec-
tion to enable them to surmount the difficulties of a
most unusual and hazardous operation. But he did not
appear to lean to dissolution, and the older members
of the cabinet generally declared themselves against it.
*In the end we went back to the position that we
must have a budget on Monday, but Clarendon, Herbert,
ind Palmerston joined the chorus of those who said the
neasure was too sharp upon Ireland. The idea was then

468 THE TRIUMPH OP 1863

started whether we should go the length of the entire
remission of the consolidated annuities^ and impose the
l^^ income-tax at sevenpence, with the augmented spirit duty.
This view found favour generally; and I felt that some
excess in the mere sacrifice of money was no great matter
compared with the advantage of so great an approximatioD
to equal taxation.' Then, 'speaking with great deference/
Gladstone repeated his belief once more that the entire budget
was safer than a contracted one, both for the House and the
country, and his conviction that if they proposed it, the
name and fame of the government at any rate would stand
well. ' Wood seemed still to hang back, but the rest of the
cabinet now appeared well satisfied, and we parted, each
resolved and certainly more likely to stand or fall by the
budget as a whole than we seemed to be on Wednesday/

in

The decisive cabinet was on Saturday, April 16. It
was finally settled that the budget should be .proposed
as it stood, with its essential features unaltered. On
Sunday, the chancellor of the exchequer went as usual
twice to church, and read the Paradiso ; 'but I was
obliged,' he says, with an accent of contrition, 'to give
several hours to my figures.' Monday brought the critical
moment. 'April 18. Wrote minutes. Read Shakespeare
at night. This day was devoted to working up my papers
and figures for the evening. Then drove and walked with
C. [Mrs. Gladstone]. Went at 4^ to the House. Spoke 4f
hours in detailing the financial measures, and my strength
stood out well, thank God. Many kind congratulations
afterwards. Herberts and Wortleys came home with us
and had soup and negus.'

The proceeding that figures here so simply was, in facW
one of the great parliamentary performances of the century -
Lord Aberdeen wrote to Prince Albert that ' the display of
power was wonderful ; it was agreed in all quarters tfeu*
there had been nothing like the speech for many years, an <3
that under the impression of his commanding eloquence tlm^
^ Loans made to Ireland for various porposes.

LAID BEFORE PARLIAMENT 469

reception of the budget had been most favourable.' Lord
John told the Queen the speech was one of the ablest
5ver made in the House of Commons. *Mr. Pitt, in the M-t.i/L
lays of his glory, might have been more imposing, but he
3ould not have been more pei-suasive.' Lord Aberdeen
beard from Windsor the next day : ' The Queen must write
\ line to Lord Aberdeen to say how delighted she is at the
^reat success of Mr. Gladstone's speech last night. . . . We
have every reason to be sanguine now, which is a great
relief to the Queen.' Prince Albert used the same language
to Mr. Gladstone: 'I cannot resist writing you a line in
order to congratulate you on the success of your speech
of yesterday. I have just completed a close and careful
perusal of it and should certainly have cheered had I a seat
in the House. I hear from all sides that the budget has
been well received. Trusting that your Christian humility
svill not allow you to be dangerously elated, I cannot help
jending for your perusal the report which Lord John Russell
jent to the Queen, feeling sure that it will give you pleasure,
mch approbation being the best reward a public man can
have.'

On the cardinal question of the fortunes of the ministry
its effect was decisive. The prime minister wrote to Mr.
Gladstone himself (April 19) : ' While everybody is con-
gratulating me on the wonderful impression produced in
the House of Commons last night, it seems only reason-
able that I should have a word of congratulation for you.
Vou will believe how much more sincerely I rejoice on
jour account than on my own, although most assuredly,
if the existence of my government shall be prolonged, it
will be your work.' To Madame de Lieven Aberdeen said
that Gladstone had given a strength and lustre to the
idministration which it could not have derived from any-
thing else. No testimony was more agreeable to Mr.
Grladstone than a letter from Lady Peel. 'I know the
recollections,' he replied, ' with which you must have written,
ind therefore I will not scruple to say that as I was inspired
by the thought of treading, however unequally, in the steps
3f my great teacher and master in public affairs, so it was

1863.

470 THE TRIUMPH OP 1858

one of my keenest anxieties not to do dishonour to his
memory, or injustice to the patriotic policy with which his
name is forever associated.'^

Greville makes a true point when he says that the budget
speech ' has raised Gladstone to a great political elevation,
and what is of far greater consequence than the measure
itself, has given the country assurance of a man equal to
great political necessities and fit to lead parties and direct
governments.'^ Mr. Gladstone had made many speeches
that were in a high degree interesting, ingenious, attractive,
forcible. He now showed that besides and apart from all this.
he was the possessor of qualities without which no amount of
rhetorician's glitter commands the House of Commons for
a single hour after the fireworks have ceased to blaze. He
showed that he had precise perception, positive and construc-
tive purpose, and a powerful will. In 1851, he had on two
occasions exhibited the highest competency as a critic of
the budget of Sir Charles Wood. On the memorable night
in the previous December, when he had torn Mr. Dis-
raeli's budget to pieces, he had proved how terrifying he
could be in exposure and assault. He now triumphantly
met the test that he had triumphantly applied to his
predecessor, and presented a command of even more
imposing resources in the task of responsible construction
than he had displayed in irresponsible criticism. The
speech was saturated with fact ; the horizons were large;
and the opening of each in the long series of topics, from
Mr. Pitt and the great war, down to the unsuspected
connection between the repeal of the soap-tax and the
extinction of the slave trade in Africa, was exalted and
spacious. The arguments throughout were close, persuasive,
exhaustive ; the moral appeal was in the only tone worthy
of a great minister addressing a governing assembly— a
masculine invocation of their intellectual and political
courage. This is the intrepid way in which a strong
parliament and a strong nation like to see public difficulties
handled, and they now welcomed the appearance of a

1 Cavour, as Costi^s letters show, took an eager interest in Mr. Gladstone's
budget speech. » GreviUe, Third Series, L p. 59.

POWER OF THE PEBFOBMANCE 471

new minister, who rejected what he called narrow and
flimsy expedients, of which so much had been seen in
the last half dozen years; who was not afraid to make a ^^^^44.
stand against heedless men with hearts apparently set on
drying up one source of revenue after another; who did
not shriuk from sconcing the powerful landed phalanx
like other people; and who at the same time boldly used
and manfully defended the most unpopular of all the public
imposts. In politics the spectacle of sheer courage is often
quite as good in its influence and effect as the best of logic.
It was so here. While proposing that the income-tax should
come to an end in seven years, he yet produced the most
comprehensive analysis and the boldest vindication of the
structure of the tax as it stood. His manner was plain,
often almost conversational, but his elaborate examination
of the principles of an income-tax remains to this day a
master example of accurate reasoning thrown into delightful
form. He admitted all the objections to it : the inquisition
that it entailed, the frauds to which it led, the sense in the
public mind of its injustice in laying the same rate upon the
holder of idle and secured public funds, upon the industrious
trader, upon the precarious earnings of the professional man.
It was these disadvantages that made him plan the extinc-
tion of the tax at the end of a definite period, when the
salutary remissions of other burdens now proposed would
have had time to bring forth their fruits. As was said by
a later chancellor of the exchequer, this speech not only
won * universal applause from his audience at the time, but
changed the convictions of a large part of the nation, and
turned, at least for several years, a current of popular
opinion which had seemed too powerful for any minister to
resist.'^

The succession duty brought Mr. Gladstone into the
first conflict of his life with the House of Lords. That
land should be made to pay like other forms of property
was a proposition denounced as essentially impracticable,
Dppressive, unjust, cowardly, and absurd. It was called ex
post facto legislation. It was one of the most obnoxious,
* Northcote, Txioenty Yeara of Financial Policy^ p. 186.

472 THE TRIUMPH OP 1868

detestable, and odious measures ever proposed. Its author
was a vulture soaring over society, waiting for the rich
1863. harvest that death would pour into his treasury. Lord
Derby invoked him as a phoenix chancellor, in whom Mr.
Pitt rose from his ashes with double lustre, for Mr. Glad-
stone had ventured where Pitt had failed. He admitted
that nothing short of the chancellor's extraoi-dinary skill
and dexterity could have carried proposals so evil through
the House of Commons.^ Meanwhile the public counted up
their 'gains: a remission on tea, good for twenty shillings a
year in an ordinary household ; a fall in the washing bill ; a
boon of a couple of pounds for the man who insured his life
for five hundred ; an easy saving of ten pounds a year in the
assessed taxes, and so forth, — the whole performance ending
with ' a dissolving view of the decline and fall ' of the hated
income-tax.

The financial proceedings of this year included a proposal
for the redemption of South Sea stock and an attempted
operation on the national debt, by the creation of new
stocks bearing a lower rate of interest, two options of
conversion being given to the holders of old stock. The
idea of the creation of a two-and-half-per-cent. stock, said
Mr. Gladstone in later years, though in tiiose days novel, was
very favourably received.^

I produced my plan. Disraeli offered it a malignant opposition
He made a demand for time ; the one demand that ought not
to have been made. In proposals of this kind, it is allowed
to be altogether improper. In 1844 Mr. Goulburn was per-
mitted, I think, to carry through with great expedition his plan
for a large reduction of interest. When Mr. Goschen produced
his still larger and much more important measure, we, the

^ Mr. Gladstone received valaable I look back with the greater pleasure,

aid from Bethell, the solicitor-general. The memory of the Succession Duty

On leaving office in 1855 he wrote to bill is to me something like what

Bethell : * After having had to try Inkerraann may be to a private of the

your patience more than once in cir- Guards : you were the sergeant from

cumstances of real difficulty, I have whom I got my drill and whoee hand

found your kindness inexhaustible, and voice carried me through.*

and your aid invaluable, so that I ^ The city articles of the time justify

really can ill teU on which of the two this statement

SUCCESSION DUTY AND BBDBMPTION 473

pposition, did our best to expedite the decision. There are

o complications requiring time on such an occasion. It is a

latter of aye or no. But when time is allowed the chapter of ^^ 44^

ecidents allows an opponent to hope that a situation known to

e unusually happy will deteriorate. Of this contingency Disraeli

Dok his chance. Time as it happened was in his favour. It was

o question of the substance of the plan, but a moderate change

Q the political barometer, which reduced to two or three millions

i subscription which at the right moment would probably have

)een twenty or thirty.^

In a letter to W. R. Farquhar (March 8, 1861) he
nakes further remarks, which are introspective and auto-
)iographic : —

Looking back now upon those of my proceedings in 1853 which
elated to interest upon exchequer bills and to the reduction of
aterest on the public debt, I think that there was nothing in the
>ropo8als themselves which might not have taken full and quick
effect, if they had been made at a time which I may best describe
iS the time that precedes high- water with respect to abundance of
noney and security of the market. As respects exchequer bills,
[ am decidedly of opinion that the rates of premium current for
>ome years before '53 were wholly incompatible with a sound
state of things : and the fluctuations then were even greater than
since. Still I think that I • committed an error from want of
sufficient quickness in discerning the signs of the times, for we
were upon the very eve of an altered state of things, and any
alteration of a kind at all serious was enough to make the period
unfit for those grave operations. It is far from being the first or
only time when I have had reason to lament my own deficiency
in the faculty of rapid and comprehensive observation. I failed
to see that high-water was just past ; and that although the tide
had not perceptibly fallen, yet it was going to fall. The truth
ike wise is this (to go a step further in my confessions) that almost
J] my experience in money affairs had been of a most diflfieult
nd trying kind, under circumstances which admitted of no choice

1 Gladstone Memo., 1897. See also Appendix.

474 THE TRIUMPH OP 1863

but obliged me to sail always very near the wind, and this induced
a habit of more daring navigation than I could now altogether
1853. approve. Nor will I excuse myself by saying that others were
deceived like me, for none of them were in a condition to have
precisely my responsibility.

Another note contributes a further point of explanation:
*I have always imagined that this fault was due to my ex-
perience in the affaira of the Ha warden and Oak Farm estates,
where it was an incessant course of sailing near the wind,
and there was really no other hope.'

Seven years later Mr. Gladstone, once more chancellor of
the exchequer, again produced a budget. Semi-ironic cheers
met his semi-ironic expression of an expectation that he
would be asked the question : what had become of the calcu-
lations of 1853 ? The succession duty proved a woeful dis-
appointment, and instead of producing two million pounds,
produced only six hundred thousand. A similar but greater
disappointment, we must recollect, owing mainly to a singu-
lar miscalculation as to the income-tax, had marked Peel's
memorable budget of 1842, which landed him in a deficiency
of nearly two and a quarter millions, instead of a surplus of
half a million.! Of the disappointment in his own case, Mr.
Gladstone when the time came propounded an explanation,
only moderately conclusive. I need not discuss it, for as
everybody knows, the effective reason why the income-tax
could not be removed was the heavy charge created bj the
Crimean war. What is more to the point in estimating
the finance of 1853, is its effect in enabling us to meet tke
strain of the war. It was this finance that, continuing the
work begun by Peel, made the country in 1859 richer bv
more than sixteen per cent, than it had been in 1853. It
was this finance, that by clinching the open questions
that enveloped the income-tax, and setting it upon a
defensible foundation while it lasted, bore us through the
struggle. Unluckily, in demonstrating the perils of med-

1 It may be said, however, that fact that it would not all be collected
Feel was right about the yield of the within the year,
income-tax, and only oyerlooked the

INCOMR-TAX 475

dling with the structure of the tax, in showing its power
and simplicity, the chancellor was at the same time pro-
viding the easiest means, if not also the most direct ^,.'44,
incentive, to that policy of expenditure — it rose from fifty
to seventy millions between 1853 and 1859 — which was
one of the most fatal obstacles to the foremost aims of
his political life. It was twenty years from now, as my
readers will see, before the effort, now foreshadowed, to
exclude the income-tax from the ordinary sources of national
revenue, reached its dramatic close.

CHAPTER III

THE CRIMEAN WAR

{186S-1854)

He [Burke] maintained that the attempt to bring the Turkish
empire into the consideration of the balance of power in Europe
was extremely new, and contrary to all former political systems.
He pointed out in strong terms the danger and impolity of oar
espousing the Ottoman cause. — Bubkb (1791).

After the session Mr. Gladstone had gone on a visit to
Dunrobin, and there he was laid up with illness for manj
1863. days. It was the end of September before he was able to.
travel south. At Dingwall they presented him (Sept. 27)
with the freedom of that ancient burgh. He spoke of him-
self as having completed the twenty-first year of his political
life, and as being almost the youngest of those veteran
statesmen who occupied the chief places in the counsels of
the Queen. At Inverness the same evening, he told them
that in commercial legislation he had reaped where others
had sown ; that he had enjoyed the privilege of taking a
humble but laborious part in realising those principles of
free trade which, in the near future, would bring, in the train
of increased intercourse and augmented wealth, that closer
social and moral union of the nations of the earth which
men all so fervently desire, and which must in the fulness of
time lessen the frequency of strife and war. Yet even while
the hopeful words were falling from the speaker's lips, he
might have heard, not in far distance but close at hand, the
trumpets and drums, the heavy rumbling of the cannoD, and
all the clangour of a world in arms.

II
One of the central and perennial interests of Mr. Glad-
stone's life was that shifting, intractable, and interwoTen

476

OTTOMANS AND THE WEST 477

gle of conflicting interests, rival peoples, and antagonistic CHAP,
hs, that is veiled under the easy name of the Eastern ^ ,

jstion. The root of the Eastern question, as everybody j^ ^
lost too well knows, is the presence of the Ottoman
rks in Europe, their possession of Constantinople, — that
omparable centre of imperial power standing in Europe
; facing Asia, — and their sovereignty as Mahometan
sters over Christian races. In one of the few picturesque
sages of his eloquence Mr. Gladstone once described the
lition of these races. ' They were like a shelving beach
it restrained the ocean. That beach, it is true, is beaten
the waves; it is laid desolate; it produces nothing; it
jomes perhaps nothing save a mass of shingle, of rock,
almost useless sea-weed. But it is a fence behind which
3 cultivated earth can spread, and escape the incoming
e, and such was the resistance of Bulgarians, of Servians,
d of Greeks. It was that resistance which left Europe
claim the enjoyment of her own religion and to develop
r institutions and her laws.' This secular strife between
;toman and Christian gradually became a struggle among
iristian powers of northern and western Europe, to turn
rmenting questions in the east to the advantage of
ral ambitions of their own. At a certain epoch in the
fhteenth century Russia first seized her place among the
)wer8. By the end of the century she had pushed her
rce into the west by the dismemberment of Poland ; she
d made her way to the southern shores of the Black Sea;
d while still the most barbaric of all the states, she had
ide good a vague claim to exercise the guardianship of
rilisation on behalf of the Christian races and the Orthodox
urch. This claim it was that led at varying intervals of
ne, and with many diversities of place, plea, and colour, to
isis after crisis springing up within the Turkish empire,
t henceforth all of them apt to spread with dangerous
ntagion to governments beyond Ottoman limits,
England, unlike France, had no systematic tradition upon
is complicated struggle. When war began between Russia
d the Porte in 1771, we supported Russia and helped her
obtain an establishment in the Black Sea. Towards the

DIPLOMATIC BIVALRIES 479

cratic pride, democratic hurry, combined to spread the chap.
blaze. "^

The story is still fresh. With the detailed history of ^ahr.i4.
the diplomacy that preceded the outbreak of war between
England, France, and Turkey on the one part and Russia on
the other, we have here happily only the smallest concern.
The large question, as it presented itself to Mr. Gladstone's
mind in later years, and as it presents itself now to the
historic student, had hardly then emerged to the view of the
statesmen of the western Powers. Would the success of
Russian designs at that day mean anything better than the
transfer of the miserable Christian races to the yoke of a
new master ? ^ Or was the repulse of these designs necessary
to secure to the Christian races — who, by the by, were not
particularly good friends to one another — the power of
governing themselves without any master, either Russian or
Turk ? To this question, so decisive as it is in judging the
policy of the Crimean war, it is not quite easy even now for
the historian — who has many other things to think of than
has the contemporary politician — to give a confident answer.
Nicholas was not without advisers who warned him that
the break-up of Turkey by force of Russian arms might
be to the deliverer a loss and not a gain. Brunnow, then
Russian ambassador at St. James's, said to his sovereign :
'The war in its results would cause to spring out of the
ruins of Turkey all kinds of new states, as ungrateful to us
as Greece has been, as troublesome as the Danubian Princi-
palities have been, and an order of things where our influ-
ence will be more sharply combated, resisted, restrained,
by the rivalries of France, England, Austria, than it has
ever been under the Ottoman. War cannot turn to our
direct advantage. We shall shed our blood and spend our
treasure in order that King Otho may gain Thessaly ; that
the English may take more islands at their own convenience ;
that the French too may get their share ; and that the

I In 1772 Burke had said that he grow more gross in the very native

did not wish well to Turkey, for any soil of civility and refinement. But

P^ple but the Turks, situated as he did not expect to live to see the

they are, would have been cultivated Turkish barbarian civilised by the

to three hundred years ; yet they Russian. — Corr. i. p. 402.

480 THB CBIMEAK WAB

BOOK Ottoman empire may be transformed into independent
^ y* ^ states, which for us will only become either burdensome
1863. c^i^nt;^ or hostile neighbours.' If this forecast was right,
then to resist Russia was at once to prevent her from
embarrassing and weakening herself, and to lock up the
Christians in their cruel prison-house for a quarter of a
century longer. If sagacious calculation in such a vein as
this were the mainspring of the world, history would be
stripped of many a crimson page. But far-sighted calcula-
tion can no longer be ascribed to the actors in this tragedy
of errors — to Nicholas or Napoleon, to Aberdeen or Palmer-
ston, or to any other of them excepting Cavour and the
Turk.

In England both people and ministers have been wont to
change their minds upon the Eastern question. In the war
between Russia and Turkey in 1828, during the last stage
of the struggle for Greek independence, Russia as Greek
champion against the Turk had the English populace on
her side ; Palmerston was warmly with her, regarding even
her advance to Constantinople with indifference ; and Aber-
deen was reproached as a Turkish sympathiser. Now we
shall see the parts inverted, — England and Palmerston
ardent Turks, and Aberdeen falling into disgrace (unjustly
enough) as Russian. Before we have done with Mr. Glad- i
stone, the popular wheel will be found to make another and I
yet another revolution.

Ill

When Kinglake's first two volumes of his history of the
Crimean war appeared (1863), Mr. Gladstone wrote to a^
friend (May 14) : ' Kinglake is fit to be a brilliant populajr
author, but quite unfit to be a historian. His book is toc:^
bad to live, and too good to die. As to the matter mos't:
directly within my cognisance, he is not only not too true-«
but so entirely void of resemblance to the truth, that on*3
asks what was really the original of his picture.' ^ A littl«^

1 To Mrs. Gladstone, Jan. 3, 1863 : touches very nearly, and not igree^

• In the evenings I have leisure, ably or justly, the character of Lor-*

Much of it I have been spending Aberdeen and his government. I ar:^

in reading Kinglake's book, which afraid Newcastle blabbed on

THE BRITISH CABINET 481

earlier he had written to Sir John Acton : ' I was not the
important person in the negotiation before the war that Mr.
Kinglake seems to suppose ; and with him every supposition j^ ^
becomes an axiom and a dogma.' All the papers from
various sources to which I have had access show that Mr.
Gladstone, as he has just said, had no special share in the
various resolutions taken in the decisive period that ended
with the abandonment of the Vienna note in the early
autumn of 1853. He has himself told us that through the
whole of this critical stage Lord Clarendon, then in charge
of foreign affairs, was the centre of a distinct set of com-
munications, first, with the prime minister, next, with Lord
John Russell as leader in the Commons, and third, with
Lord Palraerston, whose long and active career at the foreign
office had given him special weight in that department.
The cabinet as a body was a machine incapable of being
worked by anything like daily and sometimes hourly con-
sultations of this kind, ' the upshot of which would only
become known on the more important occasions to the
ministers at large, especially to those among them charged
with the most laborious departments.'^ This was not at all
said by way of exculpating Mr. Gladstone from his full share
of responsibility for the war, for of that he never at any
time showed the least wish or intention to clear himself, but
rather the contrary. As matter of fact, it was the four
statesmen just named who were in effective control of pro-
ceedings until the breakdown of the Vienna note, and the
despatch of the British and French squadrons through the
Dardanelles in October, opened the second stage of the
diplomatic campaign, and led directly if not rapidly to its
fatal climax.

We have little more than a few glimpses of Mr. Glad-
stone's participation in the counsels of the eventful months
that preceded the outbreak of the war. To Mrs. Gladstone
he writes (October 4): 'I can hardly at this moment write
about anything else than the Turkish declaration of war.
This is a most serious event, and at once raises the question,

took place, and that his blabbing was book, and Lewis too, but Lewis is not

nwch coloured with egotism. Claren- a party concerned.'

don, I hear, is very angry with the ^ Eng, Hist, Bev, No. vi. p. 280.

VOL. I — 2 1

482 THB CBIMEAN WAR

Are we to go into it? The cabinet meets on Friday, and you
must not be surprised at anything that may happen. The
jg^ weather may be smooth ; it also may be very roiigh.^ First
the smooth weather came. ' October 7. We have had our
cabinet, three hours and a half ; all there but Graham and
Molesworth,^ who would both have been strongly for peace.
We shall have another to-morrow, to look over our results
in writing. Some startling things were said and proposed,
but I think that as far as government is concerned, all will
probably keep straight at this juncture, and as to war I hope
we shall not be involved in it, even if it goes on between
Russia and Turkey, which is not quite certain.' Aberdeen
himself thought the aspect of this cabinet of the 7th on the
whole very good, Gladstone arguing strongly against a pro-
posal of Palmerston's that England should enter into an
engagement with Turkey to furnish her with naval assist-
ance. Most of the cabinet were for peace. Lord John was
warlike, but subdued in tone. Palmerston urged his views
* perseveringly but not disagreeably.' The final instruction
was a compromise, bringing the fleet to Constantinople, but
limiting its employment to operations of a strictly defensive
character. This was one of those peculiar compromises that
in their sequel contain surrender. The step soon showed
how critical it was. Well indeed might Lord Aberdeen tell
the Queen that it would obviously every day become more
and more diflBcult to draw the line between defensive and
offensive, between an auxiliary and a principal. So much
simpler is a distinction in words than in things. Still, he was
able to assure her that, though grounds of difference existed,
the discussions of the cabinet of the 8th were carried on
amicably and in good humour. With straightforward com-
mon sense the Queen pressed the prime minister for his own
deliberate counsel on the spirit and ultimate tendency of
the policy that he would recommend her to approve. In
fact. Lord Aberdeen had no deliberate counsel to proffer.
Speedily the weather roughened.

1 * Moles worth in the cabinet,* said popular he became outrageously wsr-

Lord Aberdeen later, ^ was a failure, like/ — Mrs. Simpson^ s Man^ y(t^

Until the war he was a mere cipher, ories^ p. 204 ; see also Cobden'i

When the war had broken out and was Speechti^ ii. p. 28.

SPSBCH AT MANCHESTER 488

Four days later (October 12) the minister repeated that, CHAP,
hile elements of wide difference existed, still the appear- ^ ^' j
ice of that day was more favourable and tended to mutual jg^^ 44^
^reement. At this cabinet Mr. Gladstone was not present,
living gone on an expedition to Manchester, the first of the
lany triumphal visits of his life to the great industrial
nitres of the nation. ' Nothing,' he wrote to Lord Aber-
een, * could have gone off better. Yesterday (October 11),
had to make a visit to the Exchange, which was crammed
id most cordial. This morning we had first the " inaugu-
ition " of the Peel statue, in the presence of an enormous
adience — misnamed so, inasmuch as but a portion of them
>uld hear; and then a meeting in the Town Hall, where
lere were addresses and speeches made, to which I had to
jply. I found the feeling of the assemblage so friendly
lat I said more on the war question than I had intended,
ut I sincerely hope I did not transgress the limits you
rould think it wise for me to observe. The existence of a
eace and a war party was evident, from alternate manifesta-
Lons, but I think the former feeling was decidedly the
tronger, and at any rate I should say without the smallest
oubt that the feeling of the whole meeting as a mass was
mequivocally favourable to the course that the government
lave pursued.'

'Your Manchester speech,' Lord Aberdeen wrote to him
a reply, ' has produced a great and, I hope, a very beneficial
fleet upon the public mind, and it has much promoted the
ause of peace.' This result was extremely doubtful. The
anguage of the Manchester speech is cloudy, but what it
omes to is this. It recognises the duty of maintaining the
ntegrity and independence of the Ottoman empire. Inde-
>endence, however, in this case, says Mr. Gladstone, designates
i sovereignty full of anomaly, of misery, of diflSculty, and it
nas been subject every few years since we were born to
European discussion and interference ; we cannot forget
the political solecism of Mahometans exercising despotic
rule over twelve millions of our fellow Christians ; into the
questions growing out of this political solecism we are not
now entering ; what we see to-day is something different ;

484 THE CBIMEAK WAB

it is the necessity for regulating the distribution of power in
Europe; the absorption of power by one of the great
1853. potentates of Europe, which would follow the fall of the
Ottoman rule, would be dangerous to the peace of the
world, and it is the duty of England, at .whatever cost, to
set itseK against such a result.

This was Mr. Gladstone's first public entry upon one of
the most passionate of all the objects of his concern for
forty years to come. He hears the desolate cry, then bat
faint, for the succour of the oppressed Christians. He looks
to European interference to terminate the hateful solecism.
He resists the interference single-handed of the northern
invader. It was intolerable that Russia should be allowed
to work her will upon Turkey as an outlawed state.^ Id
other words, the partition of Turkey was not to follow the
partition of Poland. What we shortly call the Crimean war
was to Mr. Gladstone the vindication of the public law of
Europe against a wanton disturber. This was a character-
istic example of his insistent search for a broad sentiment
and a comprehensive moral principle. The principle in its
present application had not really much life in it; the
formula was narrow, as other invasions of public law within
the next dozen years were to show. But the clear-cut issues
of history only disclose themselves in the long result oi
Time. It was the diplomatic labyrinth of the passing
hour through which the statesmen of the coalition had to
thread their way. The disastrous end was what Mr. DisraeVi
christened the coalition war.

' The first year of the coalition government,' Lord Abe r*-
deen wrote to Mr. Gladstone, 'was eminently prosperou.:^
and this was chiefly owing to your own personal exertion^
and to the boldness, ability, and success of your financi^
measures. Our second year, if not specially brilliant, migb'^
still have proved greatly advantageous to the country, h»<J
we possessed the courage to resist popular clamour and tx)
avoid war ; but this calamity aggravated all other causes of
disunion and led to our dissolution.'*

1 Eng. Hist. Bev. No. vi. p. 290. < March 17, 1856.

jssqjjAKd slowly drawn IK 485

IV

On November 4, Clarendon wrote to Lord Aberdeen that
they were now in an anomalous and painful position, and he
had arrived at the conviction that it might have been avoided jeJ 4^
by firm language and a more decided course five months
ago. ^Russia would then, as she is now, have been ready
to come to terms, and we should have exercised a control
over the Turks that is now not to be obtained.' Nobody,
I suppose, doubts to-day that if firmer language had been
used in June to Sultan and Czar alike, the catastrophe of
nrar would probably have been avoided, as Lord Clarendon
tiere remorsefully reflects. However that may have been,
this pregnant and ominous avowal disclosed the truth that
the British cabinet were no longer their own masters ; that
they had in a great degree, even at this early time, lost all
that freedom of action which they constantly proclaimed
it the rule of their policy to maintain, and which for a few
months longer some of them at least strove very hard but
all in vain to recover.

The Turks were driving at war whilst we were labouring
for peace, and both by diplomatic action and by sending the
fleet to protect Turkish territory against Russian attack,
we had become auxiliaries and turned the weaker of the
two contending powers into the stronger. A few months
afterwards Mr. Gladstone found a classic parallel for the
Turkish alliance. ' When Aeneas escaped from the flames
of Troy he had an ally. That ally was his father Anchises,
and the part which Aeneas performed in the alliance was to
carry his ally upon his back.' But the discovery came too
late, nor was the Turk the only ally. Against the remon-
strances of our ambassador the Sultan declared war upon
Russia, and proceeded to acts of war, well knowing that
England and France in what they believed to be interests of
their own would see him through it. If the Sultan and his
ulemas and his pashas were one intractable factor, the
French Emperor was another. ' We have just as much to
apprehend,' Graham wrote (Oct. 27), ' from the active inter-
vention of our ally as from the open hostility of our

486 THE CRIKBAN WAB

enemy.' Behind the decorous curtain of European concert
Napoleon iii. was busily weaving scheme after scheme of
1853. ^^ ^^^ ^ ^^ ^^ unsteady diadem upon his brow, to plant
his dynasty among the great thrones of western Europe,
and to pay off some old scores of personal indignity put
upon him by the Czar.

The Czar fell into all the mistakes that a man could.
Emperor by divine right, he had done his best to sting the
self-esteem of the revolutionary emperor in Paris. By his
language to the British ambassador about dividing the
inheritance of the sick man, he had quickened the suspicioDs
of the English cabinet. It is true the sick man will die,
said Lord John Russell, but it may not be for twenty, fifty,
or a hundred years to come ; when William ni. and Louis xiv.
signed their treaty for the partition of the Spanish monarchy,
they first made sure that the death of the king was close at
hand. Then the choice as agent at Constantinople of the
arrogant and unskilful Menschikoff proved a dire mis-
fortune. Finally, the Czar was fatally misled by his own
ambassador in London. Brunnow reported that all the
English liberals and economists were convinced that the
notion of Turkish reform was absurd ; that Aberdeen had
told him in accents of contempt and anger, *I hate the
Turks ' ; and that English views generally as to Russian
aggression and Turkish interests had been sensibly modified.
All this was not untrue, but it was not true enough to bear
the inference that was drawn from it at St. Petersburg.
The deception was disastrous, and Brunnow was never
forgiven for it.^

Another obstacle to a pacific solution, perhaps most formid-
able of them all, was Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, the British
ambassador at Constantinople. Animated by a vehement
antipathy to Russia, possessing almost sovereign ascendency
at the Porte, believing that the Turk might never meet a
happier chance of having the battle out with his adversary
once for all, and justly confident that a policy of war would
find hearty backers in the London cabinet — in him the

^ See Martens* Becueil des Traites^ office, 1898, vol. zii., containiDg many
etc., published by the Russian foreign graphic particulars of these events.

LORD 8TBATFOBD DB BEDCLIFFB 487

government had an agent who while seeming to follow
instructions in the narrow letter baffled them in their
spirit. In the autumn of 1853 Lord Aberdeen wrote to ,^^''44.
Graham, *I fear I must renounce the sanguine view I have
hitherto taken of the Eastern question ; for nothing can be
more alarming than the present prospect. I thought that
we should have been able to conquer Stratford, but I begin
to fear that the reverse will be the case, and that he will
succeed in defeating us. Although at our wit's end. Clar-
endon and I are still labouring in the cause of peace ; but
really to contend at once with the pride of the Emperor,
the fanaticism of the Turks, and the dishonesty of Stratford
is almost a hopeless attempt.'^ This description, when he
saw it nearly forty years later, seems to have struck Mr.
Gladstone as harsh. Though he agreed that the passage
could hardly be omitted, he confessed his surprise that
Lord Aberdeen should have applied the word dishonesty to
Lord Stratford. He suggested the addition of a note that
should recognise the general character of Lord Stratford,
and should point out that prejudice and passion, by their
blinding powers, often produce in the mind effects like those
proper to dishonesty.^ Perhaps we may find this a hard
saying. Doubtless when he comes to praise and blame, the
political historian must make due allowance for his actors ;
and charity is the grandest of illuminants. Still hard truth
stands first, and amiable analysis of the psychology of a
diplomatic agent who lets loose a flood of mischief on man-
kind is by no means what interests us most about him.
Why not call things by their right names?®

In his private letters (November) Stratford boldly ex-
hibited his desire for war, and declared that 'the war, to be
successful, must be a very comprehensive war on the part of
England and France ' Well might the Queen say to the prime
minister that it had become a serious question whether they
were justified in allowing Lord Stratford any longer to
remain in a situation that enabled him to frustrate all the
efforts of his government for peace. Yet here, as many

1 Stanmore, Earl of Aberdeen, pp. « To Sir A. Gordon, Aug. 31, 1892.
270-1. « See Stanmore, p. 263.

488 THE CBIMBAN WAR

another time in these devious manoeuvres, that fearful
dilemma interposed — inseparable in its many forms from
1863. ^^ collective action whether in cabinet or party ; so fit to
test to the very uttermost all the moral fortitude, all the
wisdom of a minister, his sense of proportion, his strength
of will, his prudent pliancy of judgment, his power of
balance, his sure perception of the ruling fact. The dilemma
here is patent. To recall Lord Stratford would be to lose
Lord Palmerston and Lord John ; to lose them would be to
break up the government; to break up the government
would be to sunder the slender thread on which the chances
of peace were hanging.^ The thought, in short, of the high-
minded Aberdeen striving against hope to play a steadfast
and pacific part in a scene so sinister, among actors of such
equivocal or crooked purpose, recalls nothing so much as
the memorable picture long ago of Maria Theresa beset
and baffled by her Kaunitzes and Thuguts, Catherines,
Josephs, great Fredericks, Grand Turks, and wringing her
hands over the consummation of an iniquitous policy to
which the perversity of man and circumstance had driven
her.

As the proceedings in the cabinet dragged on through
the winter, new projects were mooted. The ground was
shifted to what Lord Stratford had called a comprehensive
war upon Russia. Some of the cabinet began to aim at
a transformation of the policy. It was suggested that the
moment should be seized to obtain not merely the observ-
ance by Russia of her treaty obligations to Turkey, but a
revision and modification of the treaties in Turkish interests.
This is the well-known way in which, ever since the world
called civilised began, the area of conflict is widened.
If one plea is eluded or is satisfied, another is found ; and
so the peacemakers are at each step checkmated by the
warmakers. The Powers of central Europe were immovable,
with motives, interests, designs, each of their own. Austria
had reasons of irresistible force for keeping peace with
Russia. A single victory of Russia in Austrian Poland
would enable her to march direct upon Vienna. Austria
1 This is clearly worked out by Lord Stanmore, p. 254, etc.

BRITISH OPINION 489

had no secure alliance with Prussia; on the contrary,
her German rival opposed her on this question, and was
incessantly canvassing the smaller states against her in 2BSt!44.
respect to it. The French Emperor was said to be revolving
a plan for bribing Austria out of Northern Italy by the gift
of Moldavia and Wallachia. All was intricate and tortuous.
The view in Downing Street soon expanded to this, that
it would be a shame to England and to France unless the
Czar were made not only to abandon his demands, and to
evacuate the Principalities, but also to renounce some of the
stipulations in former treaties on which his present arrogant
pretensions had been formed. In the future, the guarantees
for the Christian races should be sought in a treaty not
between Sultan and Czar, but between the Sultan and the
five Powers.

Men in the cabinet and men out of it, some with ardour,
others with acquiescence, approved of war for different
reasons, interchangeable in controversial value and cumula-
tive in effect. Some believed, and more pretended to be-
lieve, that Turkey abounded in the elements and energies
of self-reform, and insisted that she should have the chance.
Others were moved by vague general sympathy with a weak
power assailed by a strong one, and that one, moreover, the
same tyrannous strength that held an iron heel on the neck
of prostrate Poland ; that only a few years before had de-
spatched her legions to help Austria against the rising for
freedom and national right in Hungary ; that urged intoler-
able demands upon the Sultan for the surrender of the Hun-
garian refugees. Others again counted the power of Russia
already exorbitant, and saw in its extension peril to Europe,
and mischief to the interests of England. Russia on the
Danube, they said, means Russia on the Indus. Russia at
Constantinople would mean a complete revolution in the
balance of power in the Mediterranean, and to an alarmed
Tision, a Russia that had only crossed the Pruth was as
menacing as if her Cossacks were already encamped in
permanence upon the shores of the Bosphorus.

Along with the anxieties of the Eastern question, ministers
were divided upon the subject of parliamentary reform.

490 THB CBIMBAN WAB

Some, including the prime minister, went with Lord John
Russell in desiring to push a Reform bill. Others, especially
1868. Palmerston, were strongly adverse. Mr. Gladstone mainly
followed the head of the government, but he was still a
conservative, and still member for a tory constituency, and
he followed his leader rather mechanically and without
enthusiasm. Lord Palmerston was suspected by some of
his colleagues of raising the war-cry in hopes of drowning
the demand for reform. In the middle of December (1853)
he resigned upon reform,^ but nine days later he withdrew
his resignation and returned. In the interval news of the
Russian attack on the Turkish fleet at Sinope (November 30)
had arrived — an attack justified by precedent and the rule
of war. But public feeling in England had risen to fever;
the French Emperor in exacting and peremptory language
had declared that if England did not take joint action with
him in the Black Sea, he would either act alone or else
bring his fleet home. The British cabinet yielded, and
came to the cardinal decision (Dec. 22) to enter the Black
Sea. 'I was rather stunned,' Gladstone wrote to Sidney
Herbert next day, ' by yesterday's cabinet. I have scarcely
got my breath again. I told Lord Aberdeen that I had had
wishes that Palmerston were back again on account of the
Eastern question.'

Here is a glimpse of this time : —

Nov. 23, '53. — Cabinet. Reform discussed largely, amicably,
and satisfactorily on the whole. Dec. 16. — Hawarden. Off at
9 A.M. Astounded by a note from A. Gordon. [Palmerston had
resigned the day before.] After dinner went to the admiralty,
10^1^, where Lord Aberdeen, Newcastle, Graham, and I wentover
the late events and went over the course for to-morrow's cabinet
Dec. 21. — Called on Lord Palmerston, and sat an hour. 22.—
Cabinet, 2-7^, on Eastern Question. Palmerston and reform, A
day of no small matter for reflection. Jan. 4, 1854. — To Windsor.
I was the only guest, and thus was promoted to sit by the Queen
at dinner. She was most gracious, and above all so thoroughly
natural.

1 Ashley's Life of Palmerston, ii. p. 270.

THB DECISION OF DECBMBBB 22 491

On the decision of Dec. 22, Sir Charles Wood says : — chap.

III.
We had then a long discussion on the question of occupying the ^^ — y — ^

Black Sea, as proposed by France, and it seemed to me to be such ^^^« 44.
a tissue of confusions that I advocated the simple course of doing
so. Gladstone could not be persuaded to agree to this, in spite of
a strong argument of Newcastle's. Gladstone's objection being
to our being hampered by any engagement. His scheme was that
our occupying the Black Sea was to be made dependent, in the
first place, on the Turks having acceded to the Vienna proposals,
or at any rate to their agreeing to be bound by any basis of peace
on -which the English and French governments agreed. Newcastle
and I said we thought this would bind us much more to the Turks
than if we occupied the Black Sea as part of our own measures,
adopted for our own purposes, and without any engagement to
the Turks, under which we should be if they accepted our con-
ditions. Gladstone said he could be no party to unconditional
occupation; so it ended in our telling France that we would
occupy the Black Sea, that is, prevent the passage of any ships
or munitions of war by the Russians, but that we trusted she
would join us in enforcing the above condition on the Turks. If
they agreed, then we were to occupy the Black Sea ; if they did
not, we were to reconsider the question, and then determine what
to do. Clarendon saw Walewski, who was quite satisfied.

By the middle of February war was certain. Mr. Gladstone
wrote an account of a conversation that he had at this time
with Lord Aberdeen: —

Feb. 22. — Lord Aberdeen sent for me to-day and informed me
that Lord Palmerston had been with him to say that he had made
up his mind to vote for putting off (without entering into the
question of its merits) the consideration of the Reform bill for the
present year. [Conversation on Reform.] ^

He then asked me whether I did not think that he might
himself withdraw from office when we came to the declaration
of war. All along he had been acting against his feelings, but
still defensively. He did not think that he could regard the
offensive in the same light, and was disposed to retire. I said

1 See Appendix.

492 THB CRIMEAN WAR

BOOK that a defensive war might involve offensive operations, and that a
^ * J declaration of war placed the case on no new ground of principle.
1864. -^^ ^^ ^^^ make the quarrel, but merely announced it, notifying to
the world (of itself justifiable) a certain state of facts which would
have arrived. He said all wars were called or pretended to be
defensive. I said that if the war was untruly so called, then our
position was false ; but that the war did not become less defensive
from our declaring it, or from our entering upon offensive opera-
tions. To retire therefore upon such a declaration, would be to
retire upon no ground warrantable and conceivable by reason. It
would not be standing on a principle, whereas any man would
require a distinct principle to justify him in giving up at this
moment the service of the crown. He asked: How could he
bring himself to fight for the Turks ? I said we were not fighting
for the Turks, but we were warning Russia off the forbidden
ground. That if, indeed, we undertook to put down the Chris-
tians under Turkish rule by force, then we should be fighting
for the Turks ; but to this I for one could be no party. He said
if I saw a way for him to get out, he hoped I would mention it to
him. I replied that my own views of war so much agreed with
his, and I felt such a horror of bloodshed, that I had thought the
matter over incessantly for myself. We stand, I said, upon the
ground that the Emperor has invaded countries not his own,
inflicted wrong on Turkey, and what I feel much more, most cruel
wrong on the wretched inhabitants of the Principalities; that
war had ensued and was raging with all its horrors ; that we had
procured for the Emperor an offer of honourable terms of peace
which he had refused ; that we were not going to extend the
conflagration (but I had to correct myself as to the Baltic), but to
apply more power for its extinction, and this I hoped in con-
junction with all the great Powers of Europe. That I, for one,
could not shoulder the musket against the Christian subjects of
the Sultan, and must there take my stand. (Not even, I had
already told him, if he agreed to such a course, could I bind
myself to follow him in it.) He said Granville and Wood had
spoken to him in the same sense. I added that S. Herbert and
Graham probably would adhere ; perhaps Argyll and Molesworth,
and even others might be added.

LOBD abebdbek's misgivingb 493

Ellice had been with him and told him that J. Bussell and
Palmerston were preparing to contend for his place. Ellice himself,
deprecating Lord Aberdeen's retirement, anticipated that if it j^^ ^g
took place Lord Palmerston would get the best of it, and drive
Lord John out of the field by means of his war popularity,
though Lord John had made the speech of Friday to put himself
up in this point of view with the country.

In consequence of what I had said to him about Newcastle, he
[Aberdeen] had watched him, and had told the Queen to look to
him as her minister at some period or other; which, though
afraid of him (as well as of me) about Church matters, she was
prepared to do. I said I had not changed my opinion of New-
castle as he had done of Lord John Russell, but I had been
disappointed and pained at the recent course of his opinions
about the matter of the war. At my house last Wednesday
he [Newcastle] declared openly for putting down by force the
Christians of European Turkey. Yes, Lord Aberdeen replied;
but he thought him the description of man who would discharge
well the duties of that office. In this I agree.*

A few days later (March 3) Lord John Russell, by way of

appeasing Aberdeen's incessant self-reproach, told him that

the only course that could have prevented war would have

been to counsel the Turks to acquiesce, and not to allow the

British fleet to quit Malta. * But that was a course,' Lord

John continued, 'to which Lansdowne, Palmerston, Clarendon,

Newcastle, and I would not have consented; so that you

would only have broken up your government if you had

insisted upon it.' Then the speaker added his belief that

the Czar, even after the Turk's acquiescence and submission,

if we could have secured so much, would have given the

Sultan six months' respite, and no more. None of these

arguments ever eased the mind of Lord Aberdeen. Even

1 Ix)rd Blachford in hifl Letters says remember his rank unless you forgot

of Newcastle Cp, 225) : 'An honest it. In political administration he

and honourable man, a thorough was painstaking, clear-headed, and

gentleman in all his feelings and just. But his abilities were moderate,

ways, and considerate of all about and he did not see how far they were

him. He respected other people^s from being sufficient for the manage-

position, but was sensible of his own ; ment of great affairs, which, how-

and his familiarity, friendly enough, ever, he was always ambitious of

was not such as invited response, handling.* See also Selbome^s

It was said of him that he did not Memorials, ii. pp. 257-8.

494 THE C&IMEAK WAB

BOOK in his last interview with the departing ambassador of the

^^ '^ Czar, he told him how bitterly he regretted, first, the original

1864. despatch of the fleet from Malta to Besika Bay (July 1853) ;
and second that he had not sent Lord Granville to St.
Petersburg immediately on the failure of Menschikoff at
Constantinople (May 1858), in order to carry on personal
negotiations with the Emperor. ^

An ultimatum demanding the evacuation of the Princi-
palities was despatched to St. Petersburg by England and
France, the Czar kept a haughty silence, and at the end
of March war was declared. In the event the PrincipaUties
were evacuated a couple of months later, but the state of
war continued. On September 14, English, French, and
Turkish troops disembarked on the shores of the Crimea,
and on the 20th of the month was fought the battle of the
Alma. *I cannot help repeating to you,' Mr. Gladstone
wrote to Lord Palmerston (Oct. 4, 1854), * which I hope you
will forgive, the thanks I offered at an earlier period, for the
manner in which you urged — when we were amidst many
temptations to far more embarrassing and less effective
proceedings — the duty of concentrating our strokes upon the
heart and centre of the war at Sebastopol.'^ In the same
month Bright wrote the solid, wise, and noble letter that
brought him so much obloquy then, and stands as one of the
memorials of his fame now.^ Mr. Gladstone wrote to his
brother Robertson upon it : —

Ncy^, 7, 1854. — I thought Bright's letter both an able and a
manly one, and though I cannot go his lengths, I respect and
sympathise with the spirit in which it originated. I think he
should draw a distinction between petty meddlings of our own, or
interferences for selfish purposes, and an operation like this which
really is in support of the public law of Europe. I agree with
him in some of the retrospective part of his letter.

Then came the dark days of the Crimean winter.
In his very deliberate vindication of the policy of the
Crimean war composed in 1887, Mr. Gladstone warmly denies

1 Martens. slumber. — De La Gorce, Hirt. du

2 The equivocal honour of origi- Btcond Empire, L pp. 231-^.
naJity seems to belong to the French, * It is given in Sjf^eeches^ L p. 529.
but they had allowed the plan to Oct. 29, 1854.

DID THE CABINET DBIPT ? 495

Lther that the ship of state drifted instead of being steered, CHAP,
r that the cabinet was in continual conflict with itself at ^ ' ,
iiccessiye stages of the negotiation.^ He had witnessed, he ^^ 45
eclares, much more of sharp or warm argument in every
ther of the seven cabinets to which he belonged.* In 1881
e said to the present writer: 'As a member of the Aberdeen
ibinet I never can admit that divided opinions in that
ibinet led to hesitating action, or brought on the war. I
o not mean that all were always and on all points of the
ime mind. But I have known much sharper divisions in
cabinet that has worked a great question honourably and
uergetically, and I should confidently say, whether the
egotiations were well or ill conducted, that considering their
reat diflBculty they were worked with little and not much
onflict. It must be borne in mind that Lord Aberdeen
ubsequently developed opinions that were widely severed
rom those that had guided us, but these never appeared in
be cabinet or at the time.' Still he admits that this
►ractical harmony could much less truly be affirmed of the
our ministers especially concerned with foreign affairs;^
hat is to say, of the only ministers whose discussions
nattered. It is certainly impossible to contend that Aber-
leen was not in pretty continual conflict, strong and marked
lough not heated, with these three main coadjutors.
irVhether it be time to say that the cabinet drifted, depends on
.he precise meaning of a word. It is undoubtedly true that
t steered a course bringing the ship into waters that the
captain most eagerly wished to avoid, and each tack carried
t farther away from the expected haven. Winds and waves
were too many for them. We may perhaps agree with
Mr. Gladstone that as it was feeling rather than argument
liat raised the Crimean war into popularity, so it is feeling
ind not argument that has plunged it into the 'abyss of
Ddium.' When we come to a period twenty years after
this war was over, we shall see that Mr. Gladstone found
)ut how little had time changed the public temper, how
ittle had events taught their lesson.

J Eng, Hist, Rev. April 1887. This « The cabinet of 1892 was his

rticle was submitted to the Duke eighth.

f Argyll and Lord Granville for * Aberdeen, Russell, Palmerston,

)rrection before publication. Clarendon.

CHAPTER IV

OXFORD REFOEM — OPEN CIVIL SERVICE

{1S64)

To rear up minds with aspirations and faculties aboTe the herd,
capable of leading on their countrymen to greater achievements in
yirtue, intelligence, and social well-being ; to do this, and likewise
so to educate the leisured classes of the community generally, that
they may participate as far as possible in the qualities of these
superior spirits, and be prepared to appreciate them, and follow in
their steps — these are purposes requiring institutions of education
placed above dependence on the immediate pleasure of that very
multitude whom they are designed to elevate. These are the ends
for which endowed universities are desirable ; they are those which
all endowed universities profess to aim at ; and great is their dis-
grace, if, having undertaken this task, and claiming credit for
fulfilling it, they leave it unfulfilled. — J. S. Mill.

The last waves of the tide of reform that had been flowing
for a score of years, now at length reached the two ancient
I860, universities. The Tractarian revival with all its intense pre-
occupations had given the antique Oxford a respite, but the
hour struck, and the final effort of the expiring whigs in
their closing days of power was the summons to Oxford and
Cambridge to set their houses in order. Oxford had been
turned into the battle-field on which contending parties in the
church had at her expense fought for mastery. The result was
curious. The nature of the theological struggle, by quicken-
ing mind within the university, had roused new forces;
the antagonism between anglo-catholic and puritan helped,
as it had done two centuries before, to breed the lati-
tudinarian; a rising school in the sphere of thought and
criticism rapidly made themselves an active party in the
sphere of affairs; and Mr. Gladstone found himself forced

496

FIRST OXFORD COMMISSION 497

to do the work of the very liberalism which his own theo-
logical leaders and allies had first organised themselves to
beat down and extinguish. ^41.

In 1850 Lord John Russell, worked upon by a persevering
minority in Oxford, startled the House of Commons, de-
lighted the liberals, and angered and dismayed the authori-
ties of the powerful corporations thus impugned, by the
announcement of a commission under the crown to inquire
into their discipline, state, and revenues, and to report
whether any action by crown and parliament could further
promote the interests of religion and sound learning in
these venerable shrines. This was the first step in a long
journey towards the nationalisation of the universities, and
the disestablishment of the church of England in what
seemed the best fortified of all her strongholds.

After elaborate correspondence with both liberal and tory
sections in Oxford, Mr. Gladstone rose in his place and
denounced the proposed commission as probably against
the law, and certainly odious in the eye of the consti-
tution. He undertook to tear in tatters the various modem
precedents advanced by the government for their purpose;
scouted the alleged visitorial power of the crown; insisted
that it would blight future munificence ; argued that de-
fective instruction with freedom and self-government would,
in the choice of evils, be better than the most perfect
mechanism secured by parliamentary interference ; admitted
that what the universities had done for learning was per-
haps less than it might have been, but they had done as
much as answered the circumstances and exigencies of the
country. When we looked at the lawyers, the divines, the
statesmen of England, even if some might judge them
inferior in mere scholastic and technical acquirements, why
need we be ashamed of the cradles in which they were
mainly nurtured? He closed with a triumphant and
moving reference to Peel (dead a fortnight before), the
most distinguished son of Oxford in the present century,
and beyond all other men the high representative and the
true type of the genius of the British House of Commons.^

1 July 18, 1850.

VOL. I — 2 K

498 OXFORD BBFOBM

In truth no worse case was ever more strongly argued, and

fortunately the speech is to be recorded as the last mani-

1860. festo, on a high theme and on a broad scale, of that torjrism

from which this wonderful pilgrim had started on his shining

progress. It is just to add that the party in Oxford who

resisted the commission was also the party most opposed

to Mr. Gladstone, and further that the view of the crown

having no right to issue such a commission in invitot was

shared with him by Sir Robert Peel.^ Of this debate, Arthur

Stanley (a strong supporter of the measure), tells us : ^ The

ministerial speeches were very feeble. . . . Gladstone's was

very powerful; he said, in the most effective manner,

anything which could be said against the commission.

His allusion to Peel was veiy touching, and the House

responded to it by profound and sympathetic silence. . . .

Heywood's closing speech was happily drowned in the roar

of " Divide," so that nothing could be heard save the name

of "Cardinal Wolsey " thrice repeated.'^ The final division

was taken on the question of the adjournment, when the

government had a majority of 22. (July 18, 1850.)

n

In Oxford the party of * organised torpor' did not yield
without a struggle. They were clamorous on the sanctitj
of property; contemptuous of the doctrine of the rights of
parliament over national domains ; and protestant collegians
subsisting on ancient Roman catholic endowments edified
the world on the iniquity of setting aside the pious founder.
They submitted an elaborate case to the most eminent
counsel of the day, and counsel advised that the commis-
sion was not constitutional, not legal, and not such as the
members of the university were bound to obey. The ques-
tion of duty apart from legal obligation the lawyers did
not answer, but they suggested that a petition might be
addressed to the crown, praying that the instrument might
be cancelled. The petition was duly prepared, and duly
made no difference. Many of the academic authorities were
recalcitrant, but this made no difference either, nor did the

1 *Letter to Bishop Davidson, Jane 11, 1891. * JUfe^ L p. 420.

BEPOBT OF THE COBfMISSIOK 499

hop of Exeter's hot declaration that the proceeding had
> parallel since the fatal attempt of King James ii. to
gect the colleges to his unhallowed control.' The com- j^f^^^i^
isioners, of whom Tait and Jeune seem to have been the
iing spirits, with Stanley and Mr. Goldwin Smith for
retaries, conducted their operations with tact, good sense,
I zeal. At the end of two years (April 1862) the inquiiy
} completed and the report made public — one of the high
dmarks in the history of our modem English life and
wth. ' When you consider,' Stanley said to Jowett, ' the
\ of lions through which the raw material had to be
gged, much will be excused. In fact the great work was
Snish it at all. There is a harsh, unfriendly tone about
whole which ought, under better circumstances, to have
n avoided, but which may, perhaps, have the advantage
propitiating the radicals.' ^

S/Lx. Gladstone thought it one of the ablest productions
>mitted in his recollection to parliament, but the proposals
change too manifold and complicated. The evidence he
ind more moderate and less sweeping in tone than the
lort, but it only deepened his conviction of the necessity
important and, above all, early changes. He did not cease
ring his friends at Oxford to make use of this golden
jortunity for reforming the university from within, and
ming them that delay would be dearly purchased. ^ ' Glad-
ne's connection with Oxford,' said Sir George Lewis, 'is
w exercLsing a singular influence upon the politics of the
iveraity. Most of his high church supporters stick to him,
1 (insomuch as it is difficult to struggle against the
Tent) he is liberalising them, instead of their torifying
Q. He is giving them a push forwards instead of their
ing him a pull backwards.'^

The originators of the commission were no longer in oflSce,
t things had gone too far for their successors to burke
at had been done.* The Derby government put into the

Life of Stanley^ i. p. 432. * Interesting particulars of this

Letters to Graham, July 30, 1852, memorable commission are to be

Dr. Haddan, Aug. 14 and Sept. found in the Life of Archbishop Tait,

1862. i. pp. 156-170.
Letters, March 26, 1853, p. 261.

500 OXFORD REFORM

Queen's speech, in November (1852), a paragraph informing
parliament that the universities had been invited to examine
1863 ^^® recommendations of the report. After a year's time
had been given them to consider, it became the duty of
the Aberdeen government to frame a bill. The charge fell
upon Mr. Gladstone as member for Oxford, and in the late
autumn of 1853 he set to work. In none of the enterprises
of his life was he more industrious or energetic. Before
the middle of December he forwarded to Lord John Russell
what he called a rude draft, but the rude draft contained
the kernel of the plan that was ultimately carried, with a
suggestion even of the names of the commissioners to whom
operations were to be confided. * It is marvellous to me,'
wrote Dr. Jeune to him (Dec. 21, 1853), * how you can give
attention so minute to university affairs at such a crisis.
Do great things become to great men from the force of habit,
what their ordinary cares are to ordinary persons ? ' As he
began, so he advanced, listening to everybody, arguing with
everybody, flexible, persistent, clear, practical, fervid, uncon-
querable. ' I fear,' Lord John Russell wrote to him (March
27), ' my mind is exclusively occupied with the war and the
Reform bill, and yours with university reform.* Perhaps,
unluckily for the country, this was true. * My whole heart
is in the Oxford bill,' Mr. Gladstone writes (March 29) ; 'it
is my consolation under the pain with which I view the
character my oflSce [the exchequer] is assuming under the
circumstances of war.' ' Gladstone has been surprising
everybody here,' writes a conspicuous high churchman from
Oxford, 'by the ubiquity of his correspondence. Three-
fourths of the colleges have been in communication with
him, on various parts of the bill more or less affecting
themselves. He answers everybody by return of post, fully
and at length, quite entering into their case, and showing
the greatest acquaintance with it.'^ 'As one of your
burgesses,' he told them, ' I stand upon the line that divides

1 Mozley, Letters, p. 220. Mr. 360 copies of his own letters written

Gladstone preserved 500 letters and between Dec. 185.3 and Dec 1S54,

documents relating to the prepara- and 170 letters received by him

tion and passing of the Oxford daring the same period.
University bill. Among them are

THE BILL FRAMED 501

Oxford from the outer world, and as a sentinel I cry out to
tell what I see from that position.' What he saw was that
if this bill were thrown out, no other half so favourable jet.^44.
would ever again be brought in.

The scheme accepted by the cabinet was in essentials Mr.
Gladstone's own. Jowett at the earliest stage sent him a
comprehensive plan, and soon after, saw Lord John (Jan. 6).
'I must own,' writes the latter to Gladstone, 'I was much
struck by the clearness and completeness of his views.' The
difference between Jowett's plan and Mr. Gladstone's was on
the highly important point of machinery. Jowett, who all
his life had a weakness for getting and keeping authority
into his own hands, or the hands of those whom he could
influence, contended that after parliament had settled
principles, Oxford itself could be trusted to settle details
far better than a little body of great personages from
outside, unacquainted with special wants and special
interests. Mr. Gladstone, on the other hand, invented the
idea of an executive commission with statutory powers.
The two plans were printed and circulated, and the balance
of opinion in the cabinet went decisively for Mr. Gladstone's
scheme. The discussion between him and Jowett, ranging
over the whole field of the bill, was maintained until its
actual production, in many interviews and much correspond-
ence. In drawing the clauses Mr. Gladstone received the
help of Bethell, the solicitor-general, at whose suggestion
Phillimore and Thring were called in for further aid in
what was undoubtedly a task bf exceptional diflSculty. The
process brought into clearer light the truth discerned by
Mr. Gladstone from the first, that the enormous number of
diverse institutions that had grown up in Oxford made
resort to what he called sub-legislation inevitable ; that is to
say, they were too complex for parliament, and could only be
dealt with by delegation to executive act.

It is untrue to say that Oxford as a place of education
had no influence on the mind of the country; it had
immense influence, but that influence was exactly what it
ought not to have been. Instead of stimulating it checked,
instead of expanding it stereotyped. Even for the church

502 OXFORD REFORM

it had failed to bring unity, for it was from Oxford
that the opinions had sprung that seemed to be rending
1854. ^^^ church in twain. The regeneration introduced by
this momentous measure has been overlaid by the strata
of subsequent reforms. Enough to say that the objects
obtained were the deposition of the fossils and drones, and
a renovated constitution on the representative principle for
the governing body ; the wakening of a huge mass of
sleeping endowments ; the bestowal of college emolumenus
only on excellence tested by competition, and associated
with active duties; the reorganisation or re-creation of
professorial teaching; the removal of local preferences and
restrictions. Beyond these aspects of reform, Mr. Gladstone
was eager for the proposed right to establish private halls,
as a change calculated to extend the numbers and strength
of the university, and as settling the much disputed ques-
tion, whether the scale of living could not be reduced, and
university education brought within reach of classes of mod-
erate means. These hopes proved to be exaggerated, but
they illustrate his constant and lifelong interest in the widest
possible diffusion of all good things in the world from
university training down to a Cook's tour.

Mr. Gladstone seems to have pressed his draftsmen hard,
as he sometimes did. Bethell returning to him ^ the di^ecta
membra of this unfortunate bill,' tells him that he is too
deeply attached to him to care for a few marks of impatience,
and adds, * write a few kind words to Phillimore, for he
really loves you and feels this matter deeply.' Oxford, scene
of so many agitations for a score of years past, was once more
seized with consternation, stupefaction, enthusiasm. A few
private copies of the draft were sent down from London for
criticism. On the vice-chancellor it left 'an impression of
sorrow and sad anticipations ' ; it opened deplorable prospects
for the university, for the church, for religion, for righteous-
ness. The dean of Christ Church thought it not merely
inexpedient, but unjust and tyrannical. Jowett, on the other
hand, was convinced that it must satisfy all reasonable
reformers, and added emphatically in writing to Mr. Glad-
stone, ' It is to yourself and Lord John that the university

SECOND BEADING 603

will be indebted for the greatest boon that it has ever
received.' After the introduction of the bill by Lord John
Russell, the obscurantists made a final efiEort to call down one ^^^
of their old pelting hailstorms. A petition against the bill was
submitted to convocation ; happily it passed by a majority of
no more than two.

At length the blessed day of the second reading came.
The ever zealous Arthur Stanley was present. ' A superb
speech from Gladstone/ he records, ' in which, for the first
time, all the arguments from our report were worked up
in the most effective manner. He vainly endeavoured to
reconcile his present with his former position. But, with
this exception, I listened to his speech with the greatest
delight. . . . To behold one's old enemies slaughtered before
one's face with the most irresistible weapons was quite
intoxicating. One great charm of his speaking is its ex-
ceeding good-humour. There is great vehemence but no
bitterness.'^ An excellent criticism of many, perhaps most,
of his speeches.

* It must ever be borne in mind,' Mr. Gladstone wrote to
Lord John at the outset, ' with respect to our old universities
that history, law, and usage with them form such a manifold,
diversified, and complex mass, that it is not one subject but
a world of subjects that we have to deal with in approaching
them.' And he pointed out that if any clever lawyer such as
Butt or Cairns were employed to oppose the bill systemati-
cally, debate would run to such lengths as to make it hopeless.
This was a point of view that Mr. Gladstone's more exacting
and abstract critics now, and many another time, forgot:
they forgot that, whatever else you may say of a bill, after
all it is a thing that is tp be carried through parliament.
Everybody had views of his own. A characteristic illustra-
tion of Mr. Gladstone's temper in the arduous work of
practical legislation to which so much of the energies
of his life was devoted, is worth giving here from a letter
of this date to Burgon of Oriel. Nobody answers better
to the rare combination, in Bacon's words, of a 'glorious
nature that doth put life into business, with a solid and

I Life, i. p. 434.

504 OXFORD &KFO&M

BOOK sober nature that hath as much of the ballast as of the
J^saU':-

1854. Sometimes it may be necessary' in dealing with a very ancient
institution to make terms, as it were, between such an institution
and the actual spirit of the age. This may be in certain circom-
stances a necessary, but it can never be a satisfactory, process. It
is driving a bargain, and somewhat of a wretched bargain. Bat
I really do not find or feel that this is the case now before us. In
that case, my view, right or wrong, is this : that Oxford is far
behind her duties or capabilities, not because her working men
work so little, but because so large a proportion of her children
do not work at all, so large a proportion of her resources remains
practically dormant, and her present constitution is so ill-adapted
to developing her real but latent powers. What I therefore
anticipate is not the weakening of her distinctive principles, not
the diminution of her labour, already great, that she discharges
for the church and for the land, but a great expansion, a gieat
invigoration, a great increase of her numbers, a still greater
increase of her moral force, and of her hold upon the heart and
mind of the country.

Posey seems to have talked of the university as mined
and overthrown by a parricidal hand ; Oxford would be lost
to the church ; she would have to take refuge in colleges
away from the university. Oxford had now received its
death-blow from Mr. Gladstone and the government to
which he belonged, and he could no longer support at
election times the worker of such evil, and must return to
that inactivity in things political, from which only love and
confidence for Mr. Gladstone had roused him. 'Person-
ally,' the good man adds, 'I must always love you.' To
Pusey, and to all who poured reproach upon him from this
side, Mr. Gladstone replied with inexhaustible patience.
He never denied that parliamentary intervention was an
evil, but he submitted to it in order to avert greater eyil
* If the church of England has not strength enough to keep
upright, this will soon appear in the troubles of emancipated
Oxford : if she has, it will come out to the joy of us all
in the immensely augmented energy and power of the

ADMISSION OF DISSENTEB8 505

university for good. If Germanism and Arnoldism are now CHAP,
to carry the day at Oxford (I mean supposing the bill is y ' j
carried into law), they will carry it fairly ; let them win j^,^ 45^
and wear her (God forbid, however) ; but if she has a
heart true to the faith her hand will be stronger ten times
over than it has been heretofore, in doing battle. . . . Nor

am I saddened by the pamphlet of a certain Mr. which

I have been reading to-day. It has more violence than
venom, and also much more violence than strength. I
often feel how hard it is on divines to be accused of
treachery and baseness, because they do not, like iw, get it
every day and so become case-hardened against it.'

In parliament the craft laboured heavily in cross-seas.
*I have never known,' says its pilot, 'a measure so foolishly
discussed in committee.' Nor was oil cast upon the waters
by its friends. By the end of May Mr. Gladstone and Lord
John saw that they must take in canvas. At this point
a new storm broke. It was impossible that a measure on
such a subject could fail to awaken the ever ready quarrel
between the two camps into which the English establish-
ment, for so many generations, has so unhappily divided
the life of the nation. From the first, the protestant dis-
senters had been extremely sore at the absence from the
bill of any provision for their admission to the remodelled
university. Bright, the most illustrious of them, told the
House of Commons that he did not care whether so
pusillanimous and tinkering an affair as this was passed
or not. Dissenters, he said with scorn, are expected always
to manifest too much of those inestimable qualities which are
spoken of in the Epistle to the Corinthians: ^To hope all
things, to believe all things, and to endure all things.'

More discredit than he deserved fell upon Mr. Gladstone
for this obnoxious defect. In announcing the commission
of inquiry four years before. Lord John as prime minister
had expressly said that the improvement of the universities
should be treated as a subject by itself, and that the ad-
mission of dissenters ought to be reserved for future and
separate consideration. Writing to Mr. Gladstone (Jan. 1854)
he said, ^ I do not want to stir the question in this bill,' but

506 OXFOBD BEFOBM

he would support a proposal in a separate bill by which the
halls might be the means of admitting dissenters. Mr.
1854. Gladstone himself professed to take no strong line either
way ; but in a parliamentary case of this kind to take no line
is not materially different from a line in effect unfriendly.
Arthur Stanley pressed him as hard as he could. * Justice
to the university/ said Mr. Gladstone in reply, ^demancLj
that it should be allowed to consider the question for itself.
. . . Indeed, while I believe that the admission of dLssenteK
without the breaking up of the religious teaching and the
government of the university would be a great good, I am
also of opinion that to give effect to that measure by forcible
intervention of parliament would be a great evil. Whether
it is an evil that must some day or other be encountered,
the time has not yet, I think, arrived for determiuiiig.'
The letter concludes with a remark of curious bearing upon
the temper of that age. 'The very words,' he says to
Stanley, ' which you have let fall upon your paper — " Roman
catholics " — used in this connection, were enough to burn
it through and through, considering we have a parliament
which^ were the measure of 1829 not law at this momenU
would I think probably refuse to make it law.^ There is no
reason to think this an erroneous view. Perhaps it would
not be extravagant even to-day.

What Mr. Gladstone called 'the evil of parliamentary
interference ' did not tarry, and on the report stage of the
bill, a clause removing the theological test at matriculation
was carried (June 22) against the government by ninety-one.
The size of the majority and the diversified material of
which it was composed left the government no option but
to yield. 'Parliament having now unhappily determined
to legislate upon the subject,' Mr. Gladstone writes to the
provost of Oriel, ' it seems to me, I may add it seems to my
colleagues, best for the interests of the university that we
should now make some endeavour to settle the whole ques-
tion and so preclude, if we can, any pretext for renewed
agitation.' 'The basis of that settlement,' he went on in
a formula which he tenaciously reiterated to all his corre-
spondents, and which is a landmark in the long history of

HB. DISBABLI ON THE BILL 607

his dealing with the question, ^should be that the whole
teaching and governing function in the univereity and in
the colleges, halls, and private halls, should be retained, as ^t'46.
now, in the church of England, but that everything outside
the governing and teaching functions, whether in the way
of degrees, honours, or emoluments, should be left open.'
The new clause he described as ^oue of those incomplete
arrangements that seem to suit the practical habits of this
country, and which by taking the edge off a matter of com-
plaint, are often found virtually to dispose of it for a length
of time.' In the end the church of England test was
removed, not only on admission to the university, but from
the bachelor's degree. Tests in other forms remained, as we
shall in good time perceive. *We have proceeded,' Mr.
Gladstone wrote, ^in the full belief that the means of
applying a church test to fellowships in colleges are clear
and ample.' So they were, and so remained, until seventeen
yea^TS later in the life of an administration of his own the
Dbnoxious fetter was struck off.

The debates did not close without at least one character-
istic masterpiece from Mr. Disraeli. He had not taken a
division on the second reading, but he executed with entire
gravity all the regulation manoeuvres of opposition, and his
appearance on the page of Hansard relieves a dull discussion.
If government, he asked, could defer a reform of the con-
stitution (referring to the withdrawal of Lord John's bill)
why should they hurry to reform the universities? The
talk about the erudite professors of Germany as so superior
to Oxford was nonsense. The great men of Germany became
professors only because they could not become members of
parliament. 'We, on the contrary, are a nation of action,
and you may depend upon it, that though you may give an
Oxford professor two thousand a year instead of two hundred,
still ambition in England will look to public life and to the
House of Commons, and not to professors' chairs.' The
moment the revolution of 1848 gave the German professors
a chance, see how they rushed into political conventions and
grasped administrative oflBces. Again, the principle of the
bill was the laying of an unhallowed hand upon the ark of

508 OXFORD BEFOBH

the universities, and wore in effect the hideous aspect of the
never-to-be-forgotten appropriation clause. If he were asked
1864. whether he would rather have Oxford free with all its imper-
fections, or an Oxford without imperfections but under the
control of the government, he would reply, * Give me Oxford
free and independent, with all its anomalies and imperfec-
tions.' An excellently worded but amusingly irrelevant
passage about Voltaire and Rousseau, and the land that was
enlightened by the one and inflamed by the other, brought
the curious performance to a solemn close. High fantastic
trifling of this sort, though it may divert a later generation
to whose legislative bills it can do no harm, helps to explain
the deep disfavour with which Disraeli was regarded by his
severe and strenuous opponent.

*The admiration of posterity,' Dr. Jeune wrote to Mr.
Gladstone, * would be greatly increased if men hereafter
could know what wisdom, what firmness, what temper, what
labour your success has required.' More than this, it was
notorious that Mr. Gladstone was bravely risking his seat.
This side of the matter Jeune made plain to him. ^ Had I
foreseen in 1847,' replied Mr. Gladstone (^Broadstair$^ Aug.
26, 1854), * that church controversies which I then hopwl
were on the decline, were really about to assume a fiercer
glare and a wider range than they had done before, I should
not have been presumptuous enough to face the contin-
gencies of such a seat at such a time.' As things stood he
was bound to hold on. With dauntless confidence that never
failed him, he was convinced that no long time would suflSce
to scatter the bugbears, and the bill would be nothing but a
source of strength to any one standing in reputed connection
with it. To Dr. Jeune when the battle was over he expresses
'his warm sense of the great encouragement and solid
advantage which at every stage he had derived from his
singularly ready and able help.' To Jowett and Goldwin
Smith he acknowledged a hardly lower degree of obligation.
The last twenty years, wrote a shrewd and expert sage in
1866, * have seen more improvement in the temper and teach-
ing of Oxford than the three centuries since the Reformation.
This has undoubtedly been vastly promoted by the Reform

ANOTHER FAB-BEACHING CHANGE 509

bill of 1854, or at least by one enactment in it, the aboli-
tion of close fellowships, which has done more for us than
all the other enactments of the measure put together.'^ Mt ib
*The indirect effects,' says the same writer in words of
pregnant praise, 'in stimulating the spirit of improvement
among us, have been no less important than the specific
reforms enacted byit.'^

in

Another of the most far-reaching changes of this era of
reform affected the civil service. J. S. Mill, then himself
an official at the India House, did not hesitate ' to hail the
plan of throwing open the civil service to competition as
one of the greatest improvements in public affairs ever
proposed by a government/ On the system then reigning,
civil employment under the crown was in all the offices the
result of patronage, though in some, and those not the more
important of them, nominees were partially tested by
qualifying examination and periods of probation. The
eminent men who held what were called the staff ap-
pointments in the service — the Merivales, Taylors, Farrera
— were introduced from without, with the obvious implica-
tion that either the civil service trained up within its own
Tanks a poor breed, or else that the meritorious men were
discouraged and kept back by the sight of prizes falling to
outsiders. Mr. Gladstone was not slow to point out that
the existing system if it brought eminent men in, had driven
men like Manning and Spedding out. What patronage
meant is forcibly described in a private memorandum of a
leading reformer, preserved by Mr. Gladstone among his
papers on this subject. ' The existing corps of civil servants,'
says the writer, 'do not like the new plan, because the
introduction of well-educated, active men, will force them
to bestir themselves, and because they cannot hope to get
their own ill-educated sons appointed under the new system.

1 Academic<jtl Organisation. By projected edition of his collected

Mark Pattison, p. 24. speeches: On the introduction of

*The following speeches made by the bill, March 19 (1864); on the

Mr. Gladstone on the Oxford bill second reading, April 7 ; during the

were deemed by him of sufficient committee stage, April 27, June 1,

importance to be included in the 22, 23, and July 27.

510 OPEN CIVIL 8BRVI0B

The old e8tabli$hed political families habitually batten on
the public patronage — their sons legitimate and illegitimate,
^g^ their relatives and dependents of every degree, are provided
for by the score. Besides the adventuring disreputable
class of members of parliament, who make God knows what
use of the patronage, a large number of borough members
are mainly dependent upon it for their seats. What, for
instance, are the members to do who have been sent do\m
by the patronage secretary to contest boroughs in the in-
terest of the government, and who are pledged twenty deep
to their constituents ? '

The foreign office had undergone, some years before, a
thorough reconstruction by Lord Palmerston, who, though
very cool to constitutional reform, was assiduous and exact-
ing in the forms of public business, not least so in the vital
matter of a strong, plain, bold handwriting. Revision had
been attempted in various departments before Mr. Gladstone
went to the exchequer, and a spirit of improvement was
in the air. Lowe, beginning his official career as one of
the secretaries of the board of control, had procured the
insertion in the India bill of 1863 of a provision throwing
open the great service of India to competition for all British-
born subjects, and he was a vigorous advocate of a general
extension of the principle.^ It was the conditions common
to all the public establishments that called for revision, and
the foundations for reform were laid in a report by Northeote
and Sir Charles Trevelyan (November 1853), prepared for
Mr. Gladstone at his request, recommending two proposi-
tions, so familiarised to us to-day as to seem like primordial
elements of the British constitution. One was, that access
to the public service should be through the door of a com-
petitive examination; the other, that for conducting these
examinations a central board should be constituted. The
effect of such a change has been enormous not only on
the efficiency of the service, but on the education of the
country, and by a thousand indirect influences, raising and
strengthening the social feeling for the immortal maxim
that the career should be open to the talents. The lazy
1 Life of Lord Sherhrooke^ pp. 421-2.

OLD SYSTEM AND KBW 511

doctrine that men are much of a muchness gave way to
a higher respect for merit and to more effectual standards of
competency. ^^'45

The reform was not achieved without a battle. The whole

case was argued by Mr. Gladstone in a letter to Lord John

Russell of incomparable trenchancy and force, one of the

best specimens of the writer at his best, and only not worth

reproducing here, because the case has long been finished.^

Lord John (Jan. 20) wrote to him curtly in reply, * I hope

no change will be made, and I certainly must protest against

it.' In reply to even a second assault, he remained quite

unconvinced. At present, he said, the Queen appointed the

ministers, and the ministers the subordinates ; in future the

board of examiners would be in the place of the Queen.

Our institutions would be as nearly republican as possible,

and the new spirit of the public oflSces would not be loyalty

but republicanism ! As one of Lord John's kindred spirits

declared, ' The more the civil service is recruited from the

lower classes, the less will it be sought after by the higher,

until at last the aristocracy will be altogether dissociated from

the permanent civil service of the country.' How could the

country go on with a democratic civil service by the side of

an aristocratic legislature ? ^ This was just the spirit that

Mr. Gladstone loatKed. To Graham he wrote (Jan. 3, 1854),

*- I do not want any pledges as to details ; what I seek is

your countenance and favour in an endeavour to introduce

to the cabinet a proposal that we should give our sanction

to the principle that in every case where a satisfactory test

of a defined and palpable nature can be furnished, the public

service shall be laid open to personal merit. . . . This is

^ny contribution to parliamentary reform.' On January 26

(1854) the cabinet was chiefly occupied by Mr. Gladstone's

proposition, and after a long discussion his plan was adopted.

When reformers more ardent than accurate insisted in later

years that it was the aristocracy who kept patronage, Mr.

Gladstone reminded the House, ' No cabinet could have

been more aristocratically composed than that over which

1 For an extract see Appendix.

3 Romilly, quoted by Layard, June 16th, 1856.

512 OPEN CIVIL SERVICE

Lord Aberdeen presided. I myself was the only one of
fifteen noblemen and gentlemen who composed it, who could
1854. °^*' fs-irly be said to belong to that class.' Yet it was this
cabinet that conceived and matured a plan for the surrender
of all its patronage. There for the moment, in spite of all
his vigour and resolution, the reform was arrested. Time
did not change him. In November he wrote to Trevelyan:
* My own opinions are more and more in favour of the plan
of competition. I do not mean that they can be more in
its favour as a principle, than they were when I invited
you and Northcote to write the report which has lit up the
flame; but more and more do the incidental evils seem
curable and the diflBculties removable.' As the Crimean
war went on, the usual cry for administrative reform was
raised, and Mr. Gladstone never made a more terse, pithy,
and incontrovertible speech than his defence for an open
civil service in the summer of 1865.^

For this branch of reform, too, the inspiration had pro-
ceeded from Oxford. Two of the foremost champions of
the change had been Temple — afterwards Archbishop of
Canterbury — and Jowett. The latter was described by Mr.
Gladstone to Graham as being ^ as handy a workman as
you shall readily find,' and in the beginning of 1855 he
proposed to these two reformers that they should take the
salaried office of examiners under the civil service scheme.
Much of his confident expectation of good, he told them,
was built upon their co-operation. In all his proceedings on
this subject, Mr. Gladstone showed in strong light in how
unique a degree he combined a profound democratic instinct
with the spirit of good government ; the instinct of popular
equality along with the scientific spirit of the enlightened
bureaucrat.

^ He made three speeches on the The first was on Layaid's motion for
subject at this period ; June 15th and reform, which was rejected ty 369 to
July 10th, 1855, and April 24th, 1856. 46.

CHAPTER V

WAB FINANCE — TAX OE LOAN
(1864)

Thb expenses of a war are the moral check which it has pleased the
Almighty to impose apon the ambition and lost of conquest, that
are inherent in so many nationa There is pomp and circumstance,
there is glory and excitement about war, which, notwithstanding
the miseries it entails, invests it with charms in the eyes of the
community, and tends to blind men to those evils to a fearful and
dangerous degree. The necessity of meeting from year to year
the expenditure which it entails is a salutary and wholesome
check, making them feel what they are about, and making them
measure the cost of the benefit upon which they may calculate.
— Gladstone.

3B finance of 1854 offered nothing more original or in-
nious than bluntly doubling the income tax (from seven
nee to fourteen pence), and raising the duties on spirits, ^^ ^^
gar, and malt. The draught was administered in two
ses, first in a provisional budget for half a year (March 6),
xt in a completed scheme two months later. During the
terval the chancellor of the exchequer was exposed to
ich criticism alike from city experts and plain men. The
ins of 1853 had, in the main, proved a remarkable success,
i they were not without weak points. Reductions in the
ities of customs, excise, and stamps had all been followed by
crease in their proceeds. But the succession duty brought
no more than a fraction of the estimated sum — the only
ne, Mr. Gladstone observes, in which he knew the excel-
it department concerned to have fallen into such an error,
le proposal for conversion proved, under circumstances
ready described, to have no attraction for the fundholder.
be operation on the South Sea stock was worse than a

VOL. I — 2 L 613

514 WAR FINANCE — TAX OB LOAN

failure, for it made the exchequer, in order to pay off eight
millions at par, raise a larger sum at three and a half per
1864. cent., and at three per cent, in a stock standing at 87.^ All
this brought loudish complaints from the money market.
The men at the clubs talked of the discredit into which
Gladstone had fallen as a financier, and even persons not
unfriendly to him spoke of him as rash, obstinate, and
injudicious. He was declared to have destroyed his prestige
and overthrown his authority.^

This roused all the slumbering warrior in him, and when
the time came (Alay 8), in a speech three and a half hours
long, he threw his detractors into a depth of confusion that
might have satisfied the Psalmist himself. Peremptorily he
brushed aside the apology of his assailants for not challeng-
ing him by a direct vote of want of confidence, that such
a vote would be awkward in a time of war. On the con-
trary, he said, a case so momentous as the case of war is
the very reason why you should show boldly whether pu
have confidence in our management of your finances or not;
if you disapprove, the sooner I know it the better. Then
he dashed into a close and elaborate defence in detail, under
all the heads of attack, — his manner of dealing with the
unfimded debt, his abortive scheme of conversion, his mode
of charging deficiency bills. This astonishing mass of dry
and difficult matter was impressed in full significance upon
the House, not only by the orator's own buoyant and ener-
getic interest in the performance, but by the sense which
he awoke in his hearers, that to exercise their attention
and judgment upon the case before them was a binding
debt imperatively due to themselves and to the country,
by men owning the high responsibility of their station.
This was the way in which he at all times strove to
stir the self-respect of the House of Commons. Not
sparing his critics a point or an argument, he drove his
case clean home with a vigour that made it seem as if
the study of Augustine and Dante and the Fathers were

1 Northcote, Financial Policy^ p. ^ Greville, Part uu L pp.
242 ; Buxton, Mr. Gladstone : A 151, 157.
Study, pp. 154-5.

POWEBFUL SBLF-DEFEKOB 515

'ter all the best training for an intimate and triumphant CHAP.

astery of the proper amount of gold to be kept at the ^ ^

ink, the right interest on an exchequer bond and an jET.45.

cchequer bill, and all the arcana of the public accounts.^

ven where their case had something in it, he showed that

ley had taken the wrong points. Nor did he leave out

le spice of the sarcasm that the House loves. A peer had

3proached him for the amount of his deficiency bills. This

eer had once himself for four years been chancellor of

lie exchequer. * My deficiency bills,' cried Mr. Gladstone,

reached three millions and a half. How much were the

ills of the chancellor whom this figure shocks? In his

rst year they were four millions and a half, in the second ^

Imost the same, in the third more than five and a quarter,

[1 the fourth nearly five millions and a half.' Disraeli and

thers pretended that they had foreseen the failure of the

onversion. Mr. Gladstone proved that, as matter of recorded

act, they had done nothing of the sort. ' This is the way

a which mythical history arises. An event happens with-

•ut attracting much notice ; subsequently it excites interest ;

hen people look back upon the time now passed, and see

hings not as they are or were, but through the haze of

iistance — they see them as they wish them to have been,

nd what they wish them to have been, they believe that

hey were.'

For this budget no genius, only courage, was needed ; but
Jr. Gladstone advanced in connection with it a doctrine that
aised great questions, moral, political, and economic, and
igain illustrated that characteristic of his mind which
dways made some broad general principle a necessity of
iction. All through 1854, and in a sense very often since,
parliament was agitated by Mr. Gladstone's bold proposition
that the cost of war should be met by taxation at the time,
and not by loans to be paid back by another generation.
He did not advance his abstract doctrine without qualifica-
tion. This, in truth, Mr. Gladstone hardly ever did, and

* Not many years before (1838), studies; their influence on vigour as

Talleyrand had surprised the French well as on finesse of mind ; on the

oatitute by a paper in which he skilful ecclesiastical diplomatists

aased a eiUogy on strong theological that those studies had formed.

616 WAR FINANCE — TAX OB IX)AN

it was one of the reasons why he acquired a bad name
for sophistry and worse. Men fastened on the general
1851 principle, set out in all its breadth and with much em-
phasis ; they overlooked the lurkipg qualification ; and then
were furiously provoked at having been taken in. ' I do
not know/ he wrote some years later to Northcote, * where
you find that I laid down any general maxim that all war
supplies were to be raised by taxes. ... I said in my speech
of May 8, revised for Hansard, it was the duty and policy
of the country to make in the first instance a great effort
from its own resources.' The discussions of the time, how-
ever, seem to have turned on the unqualified construction.
While professing his veneration and respect for the memory
of Pitt, he opened in all its breadth the question raised by
Pitt's policy of loan, loan, loan. The economic answer is
open to more dispute than he then appeared to suppose,
but it was the political and moral reasons for meeting
the demands of war by tax and not by loan that coloured
his economic view. The passage in which he set forth the
grounds for his opinion has become a classic place in parlia-
mentary discussion, but it is only too likely for a long time
to come to bear reproducing, and I have taken it as a motto
for this chapter. His condemnation of loans, absolutely if
not relatively, was emphatic. * The system of raising funds
necessary for wars by loan practises wholesale, systematic,
and continual deception upon the people. The people do
not really know what they are doing. The consequences
are adjourned into a far future.' I may as well here com-
plete or correct this language by a further quotation from
the letter to Northcote to which I have already referred.
He is writing in 1862 on Northcote's book on Twenty Yean
of Finance. 'I cannot refrain,' he says, *from paying you
a sincere compliment, first on the skill with which you have
composed an eminently readable work on a dry subject ; and
secondly, on the tact founded in good feeling and the love
of truth with which you have handled your materials
throughout.' He then remarks on various points in the
book, and among the rest on this : —

LBTTEBS TO NORTHCOTB 517

Allow me also to say that I think in your comparison of the CHAP,
effect of taxes and loans you have looked (p. 262) too much to ^ ' j
the effect on labour at the moment. Capital and labour are in ^^^ 45^
permanent competition for the division of the fruits of production.
When in years of war say twenty millions annually are provided
by loan say for three, five, or ten years, then two consequences
follow.

1. An immense factitious stimulus is given to labour at the
time — and thus much more labour is brought into the market.

2. When that stimulus is withdrawn an augmented quantity of
labour is left to compete in the market with a greatly diminished
quantity of capital.

Here is the story of the misery of great masses of the English
people after 1816, or at the least a material part of that story.

I hold by the doctrine that war loans are in many ways a great
evil : but I admit their necessity, and in fact the budget of 1855
was handed over by me to Sir George Lewis, and underwent in
his hands little alteration unless such as, with the growing
demands of the war, I should myself have had to make in it, Le,
some, not very considerable, enlargement.

Writing a second letter to Northcote a few days later
(August 11, 1862), he goes a little deeper into the subject : —

The general question of loans v. taxes for war purposes is one
of the utmost interest, but one that I have never seen worked out
m print But assuming as data the established principles of our
financial system, and by no means denying the necessity of loans,
I have not the least doubt that it is for the interest of labour, as
opposed to capital, that as large a share as possible of war ex-
penditure should be defrayed from taxes. ^Vhen war breaks out
the wages of labour on the whole have a tendency to rise, and the
labour of the country is well able to bear some augmentation of
taxes. The sums added to the public expenditure are likely at
the outset, and for some time, to be larger than the sums with-
drawn from commerce. When war ends, on the contrary, a great
mass of persons are dismissed from public employment, and, flood-
ing the labour market, reduce the rate of wages. But again, when
war comes, it is quite certain that a large share of the war taxes
will be laid upon property : and that, in war, property will bear a

518 WAB FINANCE — TAX OB IX>AN

larger share of our total taxation than in peace. From this it
seems to follow at once that, up to the point at which endurance
1854. ^ practicable, payment by war-taxes rather than by taxes in
peace is for the interest of the people at large. I am not one of
those who think that our system of taxation, taken as a whole, is
an over-liberal one towards them. These observations are mere
contributions to a discussion, and by no means pretend to dispose
of the question.

n

In the autumn he had a sharp tussle with the Bank of
England, and displayed a toughness, stiffness, and sustained
anger that greatly astonished Threadneedle Street. In the
spring he had introduced a change in the mode of issuing
deficiency bills, limiting the quarterly amount to such a sum
as would cover the maximum of dividends payable, as known
by long experience to be called for. The Bank held this to
be illegal ; claimed the whole amount required, along with
balances actually in hand, to cover the entire amount pay-
able ; and asked him to take the opinion of the law officers.
The lawyers backed the chancellor of the exchequer. Then
the Bank took an opinion of their own ; their counsel (Kelly
and Palmer) advised that the attorney and solicitor were
wrong ; and recommended the Bank to bring their grievance
before the prime minister. Mr. Gladstone was righteously
incensed at this refusal to abide by an opinion invited by the
Bank itself, and by which if it had been adverse he would
himself have been bound. * And then,' said Bethell, urging
Mr. Gladstone to stand to his guns, *its counsel call the
Bank a trustee for the public ! Proh pudor ! What stuff
lawyers will talk. But 'tis their vocation.' Mr. Gladstone's
letters were often prolix, but nobody could be more terse
and direct when occasion moved him, and the proceedings
of the lawyers with their high Bank views and the equivocal
faith of the directors in bringing fresh lawyers into the case
at all provoked more than one stern and brief epistle. The
governor, who was his private friend, winced. * I do not
study diplomacy in letters of this kind,' Mr. Gladstone
replied, 'and there is no sort of doubt that I am very

DISPUTE WITH THE BANK 519

angry about the matter of the opinion ; but affected and chap.
sarcastic politeness is an instrument which in writing to ^ ' ,
you I should think it the worst taste and the worst feeling ^bt. 46.
to employ. I admire the old fashion according to which in
English pugilism (which, however, I do not admire) the
combatants shook hands before they fought; only I think
much time ought not to be spent upon such salutations
when there is other work to do.'

In a letter to his wife seven years later, Mr. Gladstone
says of this dispute, * Mr. Arbuthnot told me to-day an
observation of Sir George Lewis's when at the exchequer
here. Speaking of my controversy with the Bank in 1854,
he said, " It is a pity Gladstone puts so much heat, so much
irritability into business. Now I am as cool as a fish." ' The
worst of being as cool as a fish is that you never get great
things done, you effect no improvements, and you carry no
reforms, against the lethargy or selfishness of men and the
tyranny of old custom.^

Now also his attention was engaged by the controversies
on currency that thrive so lustily in the atmosphere of the
Bank Charter Act, and, after much discussion with authori-
ties both in Lombard Street and at the treasury, without
committal he sketched out at least one shadow of a project
of his own. He knew, however, that any great measure must
be undertaken by a finance minister with a clear position and
strong hands, and he told Graham that even if he saw his
way distinctly to a plan, he did not feel individually strong
enough for the attempt. Nor was there time. To recon-
stitute the Savings Bank finance, to place the chancery and
some other accounts on a right basis, and to readjust the
banking relations properly so-called between the Bank and
the state, would be even more than a fair share of financial
work for the session. Before the year was over he passed
a bill, for whicli he had laid before the cabinet elaborate
argumentative supports, removing a number of objections to
the then existing system of dealing with the funds drawn
from Savings Banks.^

» See Appendix. « 17 and 18 Vict., c. 50.

520 WAB FINANGS — TAX OB LOAN

The year closed with an incident that created a con-
siderable stir, and might by misadventure have become
1864. memorable. What has been truly called a warm and pro-
longed dispute^ arose out of Mr. Gladstone's removal of a
certain ojfficial from his post in the department of woods and
forests. As Lord Aberdeen told the Queen that he could
not easily make the case intelligible, it is not likely that I
should succeed any better, and we may as well leave the
thick dust undisturbed. Enough to say that Lord John
Russell thought the dismissal harsh ; that Mr. Gladstone
stood his ground against either the reversal of what he had
done, or any proceedings in parliament that might look like
contrition, but was willing to submit the points to the
decision of colleagues ; that Lord John would submit no
point to colleagues * affecting his personal honour ' — to such
degrees of heat can the quicksilver mount even in a cabinet
thermometer. If such quarrels of the great are painful,
there is some compensation in the firmness, patience, and
benignity with which a man like Lord Aberdeen strove to
appease them. Some of his colleagues actually thought that
Lord John would make this paltry affair a plea for resigning,
while others suspected that he might find a better excuse
in the revival of convocation. As it happened, a graver
occasion offered itself.

1 Walpole's BusseU, ii. p. 243 n.

CHAPTER VI

CRISIS OF 1855 AND BREAK-UP OF THE PEBLITES

{1866}

Party has no doubt its eyils; bat all the evils of party put
together would be scarcely a grain in the balance, when compared
with the dissolution of honourable friendships, the pursilit of selfish
ends, the want of concert in council, the absence of a settled policy
in foreign affairs, the corruption of certain statesmen, the caprices
of an intriguing court, which the extinction of party connection
has brought and would bring again upon this countiy. — Earl
Russell.^

The administrative miscarriages of the war in the Crimea CHAP,
during the winter of 1854-5 destroyed the coalition govern- ^ ^^ j
xnent.* When parliament assembled on January 23, 1855, Mr. ^^ ^
Roebuck on the first night of the session gave notice of a
motion for a committee of inquiry. Lord John Russell
attended to the formal business, and when the House was up
went home accompanied by Sir Charles Wood. Nothing of
consequence passed between the two colleagues, and no word
was said to Wood in the direction of withdrawal. The same
evening as the prime minister was sitting in his drawing-
room, a red box was brought in to him by his son, containing
Lord John Russell's resignation. He was as much amazed as
I-ord Newcastle, smoking his evening pipe of tobacco in his
coach, was amazed by the news that the battle of Marston
Moor had begun. Nothing has come to light since to set aside
^he severe judgment pronounced upon this proceeding by the
^xiiversal opinion of contemporaries, including Lord John's
'^'^vn closest political allies. That a minister should run
^"Way from a hostile motion upon affairs for which responsi-

^ ^On Bute's plan of guperaeding party by prerogative, in the intro-
^V^.ction to vol. ill. of the Bedford Correspondence.
' See Appendix.

521

522 CRISIS OF 1866 AND BREAK-UP OF THB PEBUTES

BOOK bility was collective, and this without a word of consultation

TV

V J with a single colleague, is a transaction happily without a

1866. precedent in the history of modern English cabinets.^ It
opened an intricate and unexpected chapter of affairs.

The ministerial crisis of 1855 was unusually prolonged ; it
was interesting as a drama of character and motive; it
marked a decisive stage in the evolution of party, and it was
one of the turning points in the career of the subject of this
biography. Fortunately for us, Mr. Gladstone has told in
his own way the whole story of what he calls this 'sharp
and difficult passage in public affairs,' and he might have
added that it was a sharp passage in his own life. His
narrative, with the omission of some details now dead and
indifferent, and of a certain number of repetitions, is the
basis of tJiis chapter.

On the day following Lord John's letter the cabinet met,
and the prime minister told them that at first he thought
it meant the break-up of the government, but on further
consideration he thought they should hold on, if it could
be done with honour and utility. Newcastle suggested his
own resignation, and the substitution of Lord Palmereton
in his place. Palmerston agreed that tlie country, rightly
or wrongly, wished to see him at the war office, but he
was ready to do whatever his colleagues thought best.
The whigs thought resignation necessary. Mr. Gladstone
thought otherwise, and scouted the suggestion that as
Newcastle was willing to resign, Lord John might come
back. Lord John himself actually sent a sort of message to
know whether he should attend the cabinet. In the end
Lord Aberdeen carried all their resignations to the Queen.
These she declined to accept, and she * urged with the
greatest eagerness that the decision should be reconsidered/
It is hard at this distance of time to understand how any
cabinet under national circumstances of such gravity could
have thought of the ignominy of taking to flight from a
motion of censure, whatever a single colleague like Lord John
^ See Chap. x. of Lord Stanmore's Earl of Aberdeen,

LORD John's bbsiqnation 528

Russell might deem honourable. On pressure from the
Queen, the whigs in the government, Lord John notwith-
standing, agreed to stand fire. Mr. Gladstone proceeds : — ^^] ^

Lord John's explanation, which was very untrue in its general
effect, though I believe kindly conceived in feeling as well as
tempered with some grains of policy and a contemplation of
another possible premiership, carried the House with him, as
Herbert observed while he was speaking. Palmerston's reply
to him was wretched. It produced in the House (that is, in so
much of the House as would otherwise have been favourable),
a flatness and deadness of spirit towards the government which
was indescribable ; and Charles Wood with a marked expression
of face said while it was going on, * And this is to be our leader ! '
I was myself so painfully full of the scene, that when Palmerston
himself sat down I was on the very point of saying to him uncon-
sciously, * Can anything more be said ? ' But no one would rise in
the adverse sense, and therefore there was no opening for a minister.
Palmerston [now become leader in the Commons] had written to
ask me to follow Lord John on account of his being a party. But
it was justly thought in the cabinet that there were good reasons
against my taking this part upon me, and so the arrangement
was changed.

Roebuck brought forward his motion. Mr. Gladstone
resisted it on behalf of the government with immense argu-
mentative force, and he put the point against Lord John
which explains the word ' untrue ' in the passage just quoted,
namely, that though he desired in November the substitu-
tion of Palmerston for Newcastle as war minister, he had
given it up in December, and yet this vital fact was omitted.^
It was not for the government, he said, either to attempt to
make terms with the House by reconstruction of a cabinet,
or to shrink from any judgment of the House upon their
acts. H they had so shrunk, he exclaimed, this is the sort
of epitaph that he would expect to have written over their
i^mains : * Here lie the dishonoured ashes of a ministry that
found England in peace and left in it war, that was content

^ ♦ This suppressno veri is shocking, and one of the very worst things he
^"9-^1 ^id.' — Gremlle, in. i. p. 232.

524 CRISIS OF 1866 AND BREAK-UP OF THB PEELITBB

•

to enjoy the emoluments of office and to wield the sceptre
of power, so long as no man had the courage to question
1866. their existence : they saw the storm gathering over the
country ; they heard the agonising accounts that were
almost daily received of the sick and wounded in the
East. These things did not move them, but so soon as a
member of opposition raised his hand to point the thunder-
bolt, they became conscience-stricken into a sense of guilt,
and hoping to escape punishment, they ran away from
duty.' Such would be their epitaph. Of the proposed
inquiry itself, — an inquiry into the conduct of generals
and troops actually in the field, and fighting by the side
of, and in concert with, foreign allies, he observed — 'Your
inquiry will never take place as a real inquiry; or, if
it did, it would lead to nothing but confusion and dis-
turbance, increased disasters, shame at home and weakness
abroad; it would convey no consolation to those whom
you seek to aid, but it would carry malignant joy to
the hearts of the enemies of England ; and, for my part, I
shall ever rejoice, if this motion is carried to-night, that my
own last words as a member of the cabinet of the Earl of
Aberdeen have been words of solemn and earnest protest
against a proceeding which has no foundation either in the
constitution or in the practice of preceding parliaments;
which is useless and mischievous for the purpose which it
appears to contemplate ; and which, in my judgment, is full
of danger to the power, dignity, and usefulness of the
Commons of England.' A journalistic observer, while
deploring the speaker's adherence to * the dark dogmatisms
of medieval religionists,' admits that he had never heard so
fine a speech. The language, he says, was devoid of redun-
dance. The attitude was calm. Mr. Gladstone seemed to
feel that he rested upon the magnitude of the argument,
and had no need of the assistance of bodily vehemence of
manner. His voice was clear, distinct, and flexible, without
monotony. It was minute dissection without bitterness or ill-
humoured innuendo. He sat down amid immense applause
from hearers admiring but unconvinced. Mr. Gladstone
himself records of this speech : * Hard and heavy work,

END OF THB COALITION 525

especially as to the cases of three persons: Lord John
Russell, Duke of Newcastle, and Lord Baglan.' Ministers
were beaten (January 29) by 325 to 148, and they resigned. j^^ ^

Jan, 30, 1856. — Cabinet 1-2. We exchanged friendly adieus.
Dined with the Herberts. This was a day of personal light-
heartedness, but the problem for the nation is no small one.

The Queen sent for Lord Derby, and he made an attempt
to form a government. Without aid from the conservative
wing of the fallen ministry there was no hope, and his first
step (Jan. 31) was to call on Lord Palmerston, with an
earnest request for his support, and with a hope that he
would persuade Mr. Gladstone and Sidney Herbert to rejoin
their old political connection ; with the intimation moreover
that Mr. Disraeli, with a self-abnegation that did him the
highest credit, was willing to waive in Lord Palmerston's
favour his own claim to the leadership of the House of Com-
mons. Palmerston was to be president of the council, and
Ellenborough minister of war. In this conversation Lord
Palmerston made no objection on any political grounds, or
on account of any contemplated measures ; he found no fault
with the position intended for himself, or for others with
whom he would be associated. Lord Derby supposed that
all would depend on the concurrence of Mr. Gladstone and
Herbert. He left Cambridge House at half-past two in the
afternoon, and at half-past nine in the evening he received a
note from Lord Palmerston declining. Three hours later he
heard from Mr. Gladstone, who declined also. The pro-
ceedings of this eventful day, between two in the afternoon
and midnight, whatever may have been the play of motive
and calculation in the innermost minds of all or any of the
actors, were practically to go a long way, though by no means
the whole way, as we shall see, towards making Mr. Glad-
stone's severance from the conservative party definitive.

Jan. 31. — Lord Palmerston came to see me between three and
four, with a proposal from Lord Derby that he and I, with
8. Herbert should take office under him ; Palmerston to be presi-
dent of the council and lead the House of Commons. Not finding
me when he called before, he had gone to S. Herbert, who seemed

526 CRISIS OF 1855 AKD BBSAK-UP OF THB PEEUTES

to be disinclined. I inquired (1) whether Derby mentioned
Graham ? (2) Whether he had told Lord Palmerston if his per-
1855. severing with the commission he had received would depend on
the answer to this proposal. (3) How he was himself inclined.
He answered the two first questions in the negative, and said as
to the third, though not keenly, that he felt disinclined, but that
if he refused it would be attributed to his contemplating another
result, which other result he considered would be agreeable to
the country. I then argued strongly with him that though he
might form a government, and though if he formed it, he would
certainly start it amidst immense clapping of hands, yet he could
not have any reasonable prospect of stable parliamentary support;
on the one hand would stand Derby with his phalanx, on the
other Lord J. Russell, of necessity a centre and nucleus of dis-
content, and between these two there would and could be no
room for a parliamentary majority such as would uphold his
government. He argued only rather faintly the other way, and
seemed rather to come to my way of thinking.

I said that even if the proposition were entertained, there
would be much to consider; that I thought it clear, whatever
else was doubtful, that we could not join without him, for in
his absence the wound would not heal kindly again, that I could
not act without Lord Aberdeen's approval, nor should I willingly
separate myself from Graham ; that if we joined, we must join in
force. But I was disposed to wish that if all details could be
arranged, we should join in that manner rather than that Derby
should give up the commission, though I thought the best thing
of all would be Derby forming a ministry of his own men, provided
only he could get a good or fair foreign secretary instead of
Clarendon, who in any case would be an immense loss. . . .

I went off to speak to Lord Aberdeen, and Palmerston went to
speak to Clarendon, with respect to whom he had told Derly
that he could hardly enter any government which had not
Clarendon at the foreign office. When we reassembled, I asked
Lord Palmerston whether he had made up his mind for himself
independently of us, inasmuch as I thought that if he had, that
was enough to close the whole question ? He answered, Yes ; that
he should tell Derby he did not think he could render him useful

LORD derby's proposals 527

service in his administration. He then left. It was perhaps 6.30.
Herbert and I sat down to write, but thought it well to send off
nothing till after dinner, and we went to Grillion's where we had j^^' ^
a small but merry party. Herbert even beyond himself amnsing.
At night we went to Lord Aberdeen's and Graham's, and so my
letter came through some slight emendations to the form in
which it went.* I had doubts in ray mind whether Derby
had even intended to propose to Herbert and me except in con-
junction with Palmerston, though I had no doubt that without
Palmerston it would not do ; and I framed my letter so as not to
assume that I had an independent proposal, but to make my
refusal a part of his.

Feb, 2. — I yesterday also called on Lord Palmerston and read
him my letter to Lord Derby. He said : ' Nothing can be better.'

Lord Derby knew that, though he had the country
gentlemen behind him, his own political friends, with the
notable and only half-welcome exception of Mr. Disraeli,
were too far below mediocrity in either capacity or experi-
ence to face so angry and dangerous a crisis. Accordingly
he gave up the task. Many years after, Mr. Gladstone
recorded his opinion that here Lord Derby missed his one
real chance of playing a high historic part. * To a Derby
government,' he said, ' now that the party had been drubbed
out of protection, I did not in principle object ; for old ties
were with me more operatively strong than new opinions, and
I think that Lord Derby's error in not forming an adminis-
tration was palpable and even gross. Such, it has appeared,
was the opinion of Disraeli. ^ Lord Derby had many fine
qualities ; but strong parliamentary courage was not among
them. When Lord Palmerston (probably with a sagacious
discernment of the immediate future) declined, he made
no separate ofifer to the Peelites. Had Lord Derby gone on,
he would have been supported by the country, then absorbed
in the consideration of the war. None of the three occa-

^ At Lord Aberdeen's the question pression there was that Mr. Glad-

aeems to have been discussed on the stone had been not wholly disinclined

atsamption that the offer to Mr. to consider the offer.
(^adstone and Herbert was meant ^ Malmesbury's Memoirs of an Exr

to be independent of Palmerston *s Minister ^ i. pp. 8, 37.
aeceptanoe or refusal, and the Im-

528 CRISIS OF 1866 AND BREAK-UP OF THE PEBLITES

sions when he took office offered him so fine an opportunitj
as this ; but he missed it.'
ig^^ On the previous day, Mr. Gladstone records : * Saw Mr.
Disraeli in the House of Lords and put out my hand, which
was very kindly accepted.' To nobody was the hour fraught
with more bitter mortification than to Mr. Disraeli, who
beheld a golden chance of bringing a consolidated party
into the possession of real power flung away.

II
Next, at the Queen's request, soundings in the whig and
Peelite waters were undertaken by Lord Lansdowne, and he
sent for Mr. Gladstone, with a result that to the latter was
ever after matter of regret.

Feb. 2 . — In consequence of a communication from Lord Lans-
downe, I went to him in the forenoon and found him just
returned from Windsor. He trusted I should not mind speaking
freely to him, and I engaged to do it, only premising that in so
crude and dark a state of facts, it was impossible to go beyond
first impressions. We then conversed on various combinations,
as (1) Lord J. Russell, premier, (2) Lord Palmerston, (3) Lord
Clarendon, (4) Lord Lansdowne himself. Of the first I doubted
whether, in the present state of feeling, he could get a ministry on
its legs. Li answer to a question from him, I added that I thought,
viewing my relations to Lord Aberdeen and to Newcastle, and Aw to
them also, the public feeling would be offended, and it would not be
for the public interest, if I were to form part of his government {i.e.
RusselPs). Of the second I said that it appeared to me Lord
Palmerston could not obtain a party majority. Aloof from him
would stand on the one hand Derby and his party, on the other
Lord J. Russell, who I took it for granted would never serve under
him. Whatever the impression made by Russell's recent conduct,
yet his high personal character and station, forty years career, one-
half of it in the leadership of his party, and the close connection
of his name with all the great legislative changes of the period,
must ever render him a power in the state, and render it im-
possible for a government depending on the liberal party to hve
independently of him. I also hinted at injurious effects which

EBBOB OF BEFUSING LORD LANSDOWNB 529

e substitution of Palmerston for Lord Aberdeen would produce CHAP,
foreign Powprs at this critical moment, but dwelt chiefly on ^_\y
e impossibility of his having a majority. In this Lord Lans- ^^^ ^
»wne seemed to agree.

Lastly, I said that if Lord Lansdowne himself could venture to
sk his health and strength by taking the government, this would
I the best arrangement. My opinion was that at this crisis Derby,
he could have formed an administration, would have had advan-
ges with regard to the absorbing questions of the war and of a
^ace to follow it, such as no other combination could possess,
stiling this, I wished for a homogeneous whig government. The
ist form of it would be under him. He said he might dare
provisionally, if he could see his way to a permanent arrange-
ent at the end of a short term; but he could see nothing of the
)rt at present.

An autobiographic note of 1897 gives a further detail of moment : —
e asked whether I would continue to hold my office as chan-
jllor of the exchequer in the event of his persevering. He said
lat if I gave an affirmative reply he would persevere with the
>mmission, and I think intimated that except on this condition
3 would not. I said that the working of the coalition since its
•rmation in December 1852 had been to me entirely satisfactory,
it that I was not prepared to co-operate in its continuation
ider any other head than Lord Aberdeen. I think that though
jrf ectly satisfied to be in a Peelite government which had whigs or
dicals in it, I was not ready to be in a whig government which
id Peelites in it. It took a long time, with my slow-moving
id tenacious character, for the Ethiopian to change his skin.

In the paper that I have already mentioned, as recording
hat, when all was near an end, he took to be some of the
rrors of his life, Mr. Gladstone names as one of those errors
lis refusal in 1855 to join Lord Lansdowne. * I can hardly
ippose,' he says, more than forty years after that time, ' that
le eventual failure of the Queen's overture to Lord Lans-
owne was due to my refusal ; but that refusal undoubtedly
instituted one of his difficulties and helped to bring about
le result. I have always looked back upon it with pain as
serious and even gross error of judgment. It was, I think,

TOL. I — 2 M

530 CRISIS OF 1855 AND BRBAK-UP OF THE PEELITES

injurious to the public, if it contributed to the substitution as
prime minister of Lord Palmerston for Lord Lansdowne, —
1865. * personage of greater dignity, and I think a higher level of
political principle. There was no defect in Lord Lansdowne
Bufl&cient to warrant my refusal. He would not have been
a strong or very active prime minister ; but the question of
the day was the conduct of the war, and I had no right
to take exception to him as a head in connection with this
subject. His attitude in domestic policy was the same
as Palmerston's, but I think he had a more unprejudiced
and liberal mind, though less of motive force in certain
directions.'

Ill

The next day Mr. Gladstone called on Lord Aberdeen, who
for the first time let drop a soii; of opinion as to their duties
in the crisis on one point; hithertofore he had restrained
himself. He said, ' Certainly the most natural thing under
the circumstances, if it could have been brought about in
a satisfactory form, would have been that you should have
joined Derby.' On returning home, Mr. Gladstone received
an important visitor and a fruitless visit.

At half-past two to-day Lord John Russell was announced; and
sat till three — his hat shaking in his hand. A communication had
reached him late last night from the Queen, charging him with
the formation of a government, and he had thought it his duty
to make the endeavour. I repeated to him what I had urged on
Lord Lansdowne, that a coalition with advantages has also weak-
nesses of its own, that the late coalition was I thought fully justified
by the circumstances under which it took place, but at this juncture
it had broken down. This being so, I thought what is called a
homogeneous government would be best for the public, and mat
likely to command approval; that Derby if he could get a good
foreign minister would have had immense advantages with respect
to the great questions of war and peace. Lord John agreed as
to Derby ; thought that every one must have supported him, and
that he ought to have persevered. •

I held to my point, adding that I did not think Lord
Aberdeen and Lord Palmerston represented opposite principles,

FBUITLBSS NBGOTIATIONS 531

but rather different forms of the same principles connected with CHAP,
different habits and temperaments. He said that Lord Palmerston ^ ^^' ^
had agreed to lead the House of Commons for him, he going as jg^, 45^
first minister to the Lords; but he did not mention any other
alteration. Upon the whole his tone was low and doubtful. He
asked whether my answer was to be considered as given, or
whether I would take time. But I said as there was no probability
that my ideas would be modified by reflection, it would not be
fair to him to ask any delay.

With the single exception of Lord Palmerston, none of
liis colleagues would have anything to do with Lord John,
some even declining to go to see him. Wood came to Mr.
Gladstone, evidently in the sense of the Palmerston premier-
ship. He declared that Aberdeen was impossible, to which,
says Mr. Gladstone, *I greatly demurred.'

IV

Thus the two regular party leaders had failed ; Lord Aber-
deen, the coalition leader, was almost universally known to
be out of the question ; the public was loudly clamouring for
Lord Palmerston. A Palmerston ministry was now seen to
be inevitable. Were the Peelites, then, having refused
Lord Derby, having refused Lord John, having told Lord
Lansdowne that he had better form a system of homogeneous
whigs, now finally to refuse Lord Palmerston, on no better
ground than that they could not have Lord Aberdeen, whom
nobody save themselves would consent on any terms to have?
To propound such a question was to answer it. Lord Aber-
deen himself, with admirable freedom from egotism, pressed
the point that in addition to the argument of public
necessity, they owed much to their late whig colleagues,
* who behaved so nobly and so generously towards us after
Ix>rd John's resignation.'

* I have heard club talk and society talk,' wrote an adherent
to Mr. Gladstone late one night (February 4), ' and I am sure
that in the main any government containing good names in
the cabinet, provided Lord John is not in it, will obtain general
support. Lord Clarendon is universally, or nearly so, looked

632 CRISIS OF 1856 AND BBEAK-UP OF THB PEBLITBS

on as essential. Next to him, I think you are considered of
vital importance in your present ofiBce. After all, rightly or
1866. wrongly, Lord Palmerston is master of the situation in the
country ; he is looked upon as the man. If the country sees
you and Sidney Herbert holding aloof from him, it will be
said the Peelites are selfish intriguers.' The same evening,
another correspondent* said to Mr. Gladstone : * Two or
three people have come in since eleven o'clock with the
news of Brooks's and the Reform. Exultation prevaik
there, and the certainty of Palmerston's success to-morrow.
There is a sort of rumour prevalent that Lord Palmerston
may seek Lord J. Russell's aid. . . . This would, of course,
negative all idea of your joining in the concern. Otherwise
a refusal would be set down as sheer impracticability, or else
the selfish ambition of a clique which could not stand alone,
and should no longer attempt to do so. If the refusal to
join Palmerston is to be a going over to the other side, and
a definite junction within a brief space, that is clear and
intelligible. But a refusal to join Lord Palmerston and yet
holding out to him a promise of support, is a half-measure
which no one will understand, and which, I own, I cannot
see the grounds to defend.'

We shall now find how after long and strenuous dubitation,
the Peelite leaders refused to join on the fifth of February, and
then on the sixth they joined. Unpromising from the very
first cabinet, the junction was destined to a swift and sudden
end. Here is the story told by one of the two leading actors.

Sunday y Feb, 4. — Herbert came to me soon after I left him, aod
told me Palmerston had at last got the commission. He consid-
ered that this disposed of Lord Lansdowne ; and seemed himself
to be disposed to join. He said we must take care what we were
about, and that we should be looked upon by the country as too nice
if we declined to join Palmerston ; who he believed (and in this I
inclined to agree), would probably form a government. He argued
that Lord Aberdeen was out of the question ; that the vote of
Monday night was against him ; that the country would not stand
him.

No new coalition ought to be formed, I said, without a prospeet

PALMBBSTON FOEMS A MINISTRY 533

of stability ; and joining Lord Palmerston's cabinet would be a new CHAP,
coalition. He said he rather applied that phrase to a junction with ^ j

Derby. I quite agreed we could not join Derby except under ^^ ^^
conditions which might not be realised ; but if we did it, it would
be a reunion, not a coalition. In coalition the separate existence
is retained. I referred to the great instances of change of party
in our time ; Palmerston himself, and Stanley with Graham. But
these took place when parties were divided by great questions of
principle ; there were none such now, and no one could say that
the two sides of the House were divided by anything more than
this, that one was rather more stationary, the other more movable.
He said, * True, the differences are on the back benches.'

I said I had now for two years been holding my mind in
suspense upon the question I used to debate with Newcastle, who
used to argue that we should grow into the natural leaders of the
liberal party. I said, it is now plain this will not be ; we get on
very well with the independent liberals, but the whigs stand as
an opaque body between us and them, and moreover, there they
will stand and ought to stand.

Lord Palmerston came a little after two, and remained perhaps
an hour. Lord Lansdowne had promised to join him if he formed
an administration on a basis sufficiently broad. He wished me to
retain my office; and dwelt on the satisfactory nature of my
relations with the liberal party. He argued that Lord Aberdeen
was excluded by the vote on Monday night ; and that there was
now no other government in view. My argument was adverse,
though without going to a positive conclusion. I referred to my
conversation of Wednesday, Jan. 31, in favour of a homogeneous
government at this juncture.

At half-past eleven I went to Lord Aberdeen's and stayed about
an hour. His being in the Palmerston cabinet which had been
proposed, was, he said, out of the question; but his velleities
seemed to lean rather to our joining, which surprised me. He
was afraid of the position we should occupy in the public eye if
we declined. . . .

JFeb. 5. — The most irksome and painful of the days ; begin-
ning with many hours of anxious consultation to the best of
our power, and ending amidst a storm of disapproval almost

1855.

SM CBISI8 OF 1855 AND BBEAK-UP OF TH£ P££LITES

unanimous, not only from the generality, but from our own
immediate political friends.

At 10.30 I went to Sir James Graham, who is still in bed, and
told him the point to which by hard struggles I had come. The
case with me was briefly this. I was ready to make the sacrifice
of personal feeling ; ready to see him (Lord Aberdeen) expelled
from the premiership by a censure equally applicable to myself,
and yet to remain in my office ; ready to overlook not merely the
inferior fitness, but the real and manifest unfitness, of Palmerston for
that office ; ready to enter upon a new venture with him, although
in my opinion without any reasonable prospect of parliamentaiy
support, such as is absolutely necessary for the credit and stability
of a government — upon the one sole and all-embracing ground
that the prosecution of the war with vigour, and the prosecution
of it to and for peace, was now the question of the day to which
every other must give way. But then it was absolutely necessary
that if we joined a cabinet after our overlooking all this and
more, it should be a cabinet in which confidence should be placed
with reference to war and peace. Was the Aberdeen cabinet
without Lord Aberdeen one in which I could place confidence?
I answer. No. He was vital to it ; his love of peace was necessary
to its right and steady pursuit of that great end ; if, then, hi
could belong to a Palmerston cabinet, I might ; but without him
I could not.

In all this. Sir J. Graham concurred. Herbert came full of
doubts and fears, but on the whole adopted the same conclusion.
Lord Aberdeen sent to say he would not come, but I wrote to beg
him, and he appeared. On hearing how we stood, he said his
remaining in the cabinet was quite out of the question ; and that
he had told Palmerston so yesterday when he glanced at it But
he thought we should incur great blame if we did not; which,
indeed, was plainly beyond all dispute.

At length, when I had written and read aloud the rough draft
of an answer, Lord Aberdeen said he must strongly advise oar
joining. I said to him, 'Lord Aberdeen, when we have joined
the Palmerston cabinet, you standing aloof from it, will you rise
in your place in the House of Lords and say that you give that
cabinet your confidence with regard to the question of war and

THE PEELITES JOIN 535

peace?' He replied, *I will express my hope that it will
do right, but not my confidence, which is a different thing.'
* Certainly,' I answered, * and that which you have now said is ^^' 4^
my justification. The unswerving honesty of your mind has
saved us. Ninety-nine men out of a hundred in your posi-
tion at the moment would have said, *' Oh yes, I shall express
my confidence." But you would not deviate an inch to the right
or to the left.'

Herbert and I went to my house and despatched our answers.
Now began the storm. Granville met us driving to Newcastle.
Sorry beyond expression ; he almost looked displeased, which for
him is much. Newcastle: I incline to think you are wrong.
Canning: My impression is you are wrong. Various letters
streaming in, all portending condemnation and disaster. Herbert
became more and more uneasy.

Feb. 6. — The last day I hope of these tangled records; in
which we have seen, tcr say nothing of the lesser sacrifice, one
more noble victim struck down, and we are set to feast over the
remains. The thing is bad and the mode worse.

Arthur Gordon came early in the day with a most urgent letter
from Lord Aberdeen addressed virtually to us, and urging us to
join. He had seen both Palmerston and Clarendon, and derived
much satisfaction from what they said. We met at the admiralty
at twelve, where Graham lay much knocked up with the fatigue
and anxiety of yesterday. I read to him and Lord Aberdeen
Palmerston's letter of to-day to me. Herbert came in and
made arguments in his sense. I told him I was at the point
of yesterday, and was immovable by considerations of the class
he urged. The only security worth having lies in men; the man
is Lord Aberdeen ; moral union and association with him must
continue, and must be publicly known to continue. I therefore
repeated my question to Lord Aberdeen, whether he would in
his place as a peer declare, if we joined the cabinet, that it had
his confidence with reference to war and peace ? He said, much
moved, that he felt the weight of the responsibility, but that after
the explanation and assurances he had received, he would. He
was even more moved when Graham said that though the leaning
of his judgment was adverse, he would place himself absolutely

636 CRISIS OF 1855 AND BBEAK-UP OF THB PEELITBS

in the hands of Lord Aberdeen. To Herbert, of course, it was a
simple release from a difficulty. Palmerston had told Cardwell,
1856. ' Gladstone feels a difficulty first infused into him by Graham ;
Argyll and Herbert have made up their minds to do what
Gladstone does.' Newcastle joined us, and was in Herbert's
sense. I repeated again that Lord Aberdeen's declaration of con-
fidence enabled me to see my way to joining. . . .

I went to Lord Aberdeen in his official room after his return
from Palmerston. It was only when I left that room to-day that
I began to realise the pang of parting. There he stood, struck
down from his eminence by a vote that did not dare to avow its
own purpose, and for his wisdom and virtue; there he stood
endeavouring to cure the ill consequences to the public of the
wrong inflicted upon himself, and as to the point immediately
within reach successful in the endeavour. I ventured, however,
to tell him that I hoped our conduct and reliance on him would
tend to his eminence and honour, anil said, ' You are not to
be of the cabinet, but you are to be its tutelary deity.'

I had a message from Palmerston that he would answer me, but
at night I went up to him.

The rush of events was now somewhat slackened. Lord
John called on Graham, and complained of the Peelites for
having selfishly sought too many offices, alluding to what
Canning had done, and imputing the same to Cardwell. He
also thought they had made a great mistake in joining
Palmerston. He seemed sore about Mr. Gladstone, and told
Graham that Christopher, a stout tory, had said that if
Gladstone joined Derby, a hundred of the party would
withdraw their allegiance. At the party meeting on Feb. 21,
Lord Derby was received with loud cries of 'No Puseyites;
No papists,' and was much reprehended for asking Gladstone
and Graham to join.

' I ought to have mentioned before,' Mr. Gladstone writes
here, 'that, during our conferences at the admiralty. Lord
Aberdeen expressed great compunction for having allowed
the coimtry to be dragged without adequate cause into the

THE COMHITTEB BEVIVBD 637

war. So long as he lived, he said with his own depth and CHAP,
force, it would be a weight upon his conscience. He had ^ ' ,
held similar language to me lately at Argyll House; but ^a^x. 46.
when I asked him at what point after the fleet went to
Besika Bay it would have been, possible to stop short, he
alluded to the sommatioit, which we were encouraged how-
ever, as he added, by Austria to send; and thought this
was the false step. Yet he did not seem quite firm in the
opinion.'

Then came the first cabinet (Feb. 10). It did not relieve
the gloom of Mr. Gladstone's impressions. He found it more
'acephalous' than ever; 'less order; less unity of purpose.'
The question of the Roebuck committee was raised, on
which he said he thought the House would give it up, if
government would promise an investigation under the
authority of the crown. The fatal subject came up again
three days later. Palmerston said it was plain from the
feeling in the House the night before, that they were set
upon it ; if they could secure a fair committee, he was dis-
posed to let the inquiry go forward. On this rock the ship
struck. One minister said they could not resign in con-
sequence of the appointment of the committee, because it
stood aCBrmed by a large majority when they took office in
the reconstructed cabinet. Mr. Gladstone says he 'argued
with vehemence upon the breach of duty which it would
involve on our part towards those holding responsible com-
mands in the Crimea, if we without ourselves condemning
them were to allow them to be brought before another
tribunal like a select committee.'

Dining the same evening at the palace, Mr. Gladstone had
a conversation on the subject both with the Queen and Prince
Albert. ' The latter compared this appointment of a com-
mittee to the proceedings of the Convention of France ; but
still seemed to wish that the government should submit
rather than retire. The Queen spoke openly in that sense,
and trusted that she should not be given over into the hands
of those "who are the least fit to govern." Without any
positive and final declaration, I intimated to each that I did
not think I could bring my mind to acquiesce in the prop-

538 CRISIS OF 1855 AND BBEAK-UP OF THE PEELITE8

osition for an inquiry by a select committee into the state
of the army in the Crimea.'
1855. Time did not remove difficulties. Mr. Gladstone and
Graham fought with extreme tenacity, and the first of them
with an ingenuity for which the situation gave boundless
scope. To the argument that they accepted office on recon-
struction with the decision of the House for a committee
staring them in the face, he replied : ' Before we were out,
we were in. Why did we go out? Because of that very
decision by the House of Commons. Our language was:
The appointment of such a committee is incompatible with
the functions of the executive, therefore it is a censure on the
executive ; therefore we resign I But it is not a whit more
compatible with the functions of the executive now than it
was then ; therefore it is not one whit less a censure ; and
the question arises, (1) whether any government ought to
allow its (now) principal duty to be delegated to a committee
or other body, especially to one not under the control of the
crown ? (2) whether that government ought to allow it, the
members of which (except one) have already resigned rather
than allow it? In what way can the first resignation be
justified on grounds which do not require a second ? ' He
dwelt mainly on these two points — That the proposed transfer
of the functions of the executive to a select committee of the
House of Commons, with respect to an army in the face of
the enemy and operating by the side of our French allies, and
the recognition of this transfer by the executive government,
was an evil greater than any that could arise from a total or
partial resignation. Second, that it was clear that they did
not, as things stood, possess the confidence of a majority of
the House. ' I said that the committee was itself a censure
on the government. They had a right to believe that
parliament would not inflict this committee on a government
which had its confidence. I also,' he says, * recite my
having ascertained from Palmerston (upon this recital we
were agreed) on the 6th, before our decision was declared,
his intention to oppose the committee. . . .'

Graham did not feel disposed to govern without the
confidence of the House of Commons, or to be responsible

PBELITES BE8ION 539

for the granting of a committee which the cabinet had CHAP,
unanimously felt to be unprecedented, unconstitutional, and , ^^ ^
dangerous. Lord Palmerston met all this by a strong practical j^ ^
clincher. He said that the House of Commons was becoming
unruly from the doubts that had gone abroad as to the
intentions of the government with respect to the committee ;
that the House was determined to have it ; that if they
opposed it they should be beaten by an overwhelming
majority ; to dissolve upon it would be ruinous ; to resign a
fortnight after taking office would make them the laughing-
stock of the country.

Mr. Gladstone, Herbert, and Graham then resigned. Of
the Peelite group the Duke of Argyll and Canning remained.

Feb. 22. — After considering various sites, we determined to
ask the Manchester school to yield us, at any rate for to-morrow,
the old place devoted to ex-ministers.* Sir J. Graham expressed
his wish to begin the affair, on the proposal of the first name [of
the committee].

Cardwell came at 4 to inform me that he had declined to be my
successor ; and showed me his letter, which gave as his reason dis-
inclination to step into the cabinet over the bodies of his friends.
It seems that Palmerston and Lord Lansdowne, who assists him,
sent Canning to Lord Aberdeen to invoke his aid with Cardwell and
prevail on him to retract. But Lord Aberdeen, though he told
Canning that he disapproved (at variance here with what Graham
and I considered to be his tone on Monday, but agreeing with a
note he wrote in obscure terms the next morning), said he could
not make such a request to Cardwell, or again play the peculiar
part he had acted a fortnight ago. The cabinet on receiving
CardwelPs refusal were at a deadlock. Application was to be
made, or had been made, to Sir Francis Baring, but it seems
that he is reluctant ; he is, however, the best card they have to
play.

Feb. 28. — On Sunday, Sir Greorge Lewis called on me, and

^ On Feb. 23, he writes to Mr. and comparisons which we could

Hayter, the government whip : * We hardly otherwise have escaped ; and

have arranged to sit in the orthodox Bright and his friends agreed to give

ex-ministers' place to-night, i.e. it us. Might I trust to your kindness

second bench iomiediately below the to have some cards put in the place

gangway. This avoids constructions for us before prayers ? *

540 CRISIS OF 1855 AND BBEAK-UP OF THE PEELITE3

said my office had been offered him. This was after being refused
by Cardwell and Baring. He asked my advice as to accepting it
13^^ This I told him I could not give. He asked if I would assist him
with information in case of his accepting. I answered that he
might command me precisely as if instead of resigning I had only
removed to another department. I then went over some of the
matters needful to be made known. On Tuesday he came again,
acquainted me with his acceptance, and told me he had been
mainly influenced by my promise.*

This day at a quarter to three I attended at the palace to
resign the seals, and had an audience of about twenty minutes.
The Queen, in taking them over, was pleased to say that she
received them with great pain. I answered that the decision
which had required me to surrender them had been the most
painful effort of my public life. The Queen said she was afraid
on Saturday night [Feb. 17, when he had dined at the palace]
from the language I then used that this was about to happen.
I answered that we had then already had a discussion in the
cabinet which pointed to this result, and that I spoke as I did,
because I thought that to have no reserve whatever with H.M.
was the first duty of all those who had the honour and hap-
piness of being her servants. I trusted H.M. would believe
that we had all been governed by no other desire than to do
what was best for the interests of the crown and the country.
H.M. expressed her confidence of this, and at no time through-
out the conversation did she in any manner indicate an opinion
that our decision had been wrong. She spoke of the difficulty
of making arrangements for carrying on the government in the
present state of things, and I frankly gave my opinion to H.M.
that she would have little peace or comfort in these matters,
until parliament should have returned to its old organisation in
two political parties; that at present we were in a false posi-
tion, and that both sides of the House were demoralised — the
ministerial side overcharged with an excess of official men, and
the way stopped up against expectants, which led to subdivision,

^ While Lewis went to the ex- come back to the cabinet and took

chequer, Sir Charles Wood succeeded the colonial office, which Sir George

Graham at the admiralty, Lord John, Grey had left for the home offi(»f

then on his way to Vienna, agreed to where he succeeded PahnersUHL

PUBLIC OUTCBY 641

jealoasjy and intrigue ; the opposition so weak in persons having CHAP,
experience of affairs as to be scarcely within the chances of office, , ' y
and consequently made reckless by acting without keeping it in j£^^ 49.
view ; yet at the same time, the party continued and must con-
tinue to exist, for it embodied one of the great fundamental
elements of English society. The experiment of coalition had
been tried with remarkable advantage under a man of the re-
markable wisdom and powers of conciliation possessed by Lord
Aberdeen, one in entire possession too of H.M.'s confidence.
They intimated that there were peculiar disadvantages, too,
evidently meaning Lord J. Russell. I named him in my answer,
and said I thought that even if he had been steady, yet the
divisions of the ministerial party would a little later have
brought about our overthrow.^ H.M. seeming to agree in my
main position, as did the Prince, asked me: But when will
parliament return to that state? I replied I grieved to say
that I perceived neither the time when, nor the manner how,
that result is to come about; but until it is reatehed, I fear
that Y.M. will pass through a period of instability and weak-
ness as respects the executive. She observed that the prospect
is not agreeable. I said. True, madam, but it is a great consolation
that all these troubles are upon the surface, and that the throne
has for a long time been gaining and not losing stability from year to
year. I could see but one danger to the throne, and that was from
encroachments by the House of Commons. No other body in the
country was strong enough to encroach. This was the considera-
tion which had led my resigning colleagues with myself to abandon
office that we might make our stand against what we thought a
formidable invasion. ... I thought the effect of the resistance
was traceable in the good conduct of the House of Commons last
night, when another attempt at encroachment was proposed and
firmly rei)elled. ... I expressed my comfort at finding that our
motives were so graciously appreciated by H.M. and withdrew.

Loud was the public outcry. All the censure that had
been foretold in case they should refuse to join, fell with
double force upon them for first joining and then seceding.

1 This seems to contradict the proposition in the article on Greville in
the Eng, Hist. Bev. of 1887.

642 CRISIS OF 1865 AND BREAK-UP OP THE PEELITE8

BOOK Lord Clarendon pronounced their conduct to be actually
* J worse and more unpatriotic than Lord John's. The delight

1866. ^^ Brooks's Club was uproarious, for to the whigs the Peel-
ites had always been odious, and they had been extremely
sorry when Palmerston asked them to join his government.^
For a time Mr. Gladstone was only a degree less unpopular in
the country than Cobden and Bright themselves. The news-
papers declared that Gladstone's epitaph over the Aberdeen
administration might be applied with peculiar force to his
own fate. The short truth seems to be that Graham, Glad-
stone, and Palmerston were none of them emphatic or explicit
enough beforehand on the refusal of the committee when the
government was formed, though the intention to refuse was
no doubt both stated and understood. Graham admitted
afterwards that this omission was a mistake. The world
would be astonished if it knew how often in the pressure of
great affairs men's sight proves short. After the language
used by Mr. Gladstone about the inquiry, we cannot wonder
that he should have been slow to acquiesce. The result in
time entirely justified his description of the Sebastopol com-
mittee.2 But right as was his judgment on the merits, yet
the case was hardly urgent enough to make withdrawal
politic or wise. Idle gossip long prevailed, that Graham
could not forgive Palmerston for not having (as he thought)
helped to defend him in the matter of opening Mazzini's
letters ; that from the first he was bent on overthrowing the
new minister ; that he worked on Gladstone ; and that the
alleged reason why they left was not the real one. All the
evidence is the other way ; that Graham could not resist
the obvious want of the confidence of parliament, and that
Gladstone could not bear a futile and perilous inquiry.
That they both regretted that they had yielded to over-
persuasion in joining, against their own feelings and judg-
ment, is certain. Graham even wrote to Mr. Gladstone in
the following summer that his assent to joining Palmerston
was perhaps the greatest mistake of his public life. In

* Oreville, iii. i. p. 246. on all this, to be addressed, like

3 Mr. Gladstone projected and the Neapolitan letters, to Lord Aber-
partly executed some public letters deen.

LORD palmsbston's beign 543

Mr. Gladstone's case, the transaction gave a rude and pro-
tracted shock to his public influence.

Lord Palmerston meanwhile sat tight in his saddle. When -fir. 46.
the crisis first began, Roebuck in energetic language had
urged him to sweep the Peelites from his path, and at any
rate he now very steadily went on without them. Everybody
took for granted that his administration would be temporary.
Mr. Gladstone himself gave it a twelvemonth at most. As
it happened. Lord Palmerston was in fact, with one brief
interruption, installed for a decade. He was seventy-one ; he
had been nearly forty years in office ; he had worked at the
admiralty, war department, foreign office, home office ; he
had served under ten prime ministers — Portland, Perceval,
Liverpool, Canning, Goderich, Wellington, Grey, Melbourne,
Russell, Aberdeen. He was not more than loosely attached
to the whigs, and he had none of the strength of that
aristocratic tradition and its organ, the Bedford sect. The
landed interest was not with him. The Manchester men
detested him. The church in all its denominations was on
terms of cool and reciprocated indifiference with one who
was above all else the man of this world. The press he
knew how to manage. In every art of parliamentary sleight
of hand he was an expert, and he suited the temper of the
times, while old maxims of government and policy were
tardily expiring, and the forces of a new era were in their
season gathering to a head.

CHAPTER VII

POLITICAL ISOLATION

{1855-1866)

ilKurra yiip v6\€fios hrl ^rfroU x^P*^* ~^ Thuc. L 122.

War is the last thing in all the world to go according to pn>-
g^ramme.

Statesmen are invincibly slow to leam the lesson pal
by Thucydides long centuries ago into the mouth of Ae
jg^ Athenian envoys at Sparta, and often repeated in the same
immortal pages, that war defies all calculations, and if it be
protracted comes to be little more than mere matter of
chance, over which the combatants have no control. A
thousand times since has history proved this to be troe.
Policy is mastered by events ; unforeseen sequels develop
novel pretexts, or grow into startling and hateful neces-
sities ; the minister finds that he is fastened to an inexorable
chain.

Mr. Gladstone now had this fatal law of mundane things
brought home to him. As time went on, he by rapid
intuition gained a truer insight into the leading facts. He
realised that Mahometan institutions in the Ottoman empire
were decrepit ; that the youthful and vigorous elements in
European Turkey were crushed under antiquated and worn-
out forms and forces unfit for rule. He awoke to the disquiet-
ing reflection how the occupation of the Principalities had
been discussed, day after day and month after month, entirely
as a question of the payment of forty thousand pounds a
year to Turkey, or as a violation of her rights as suzerain,
but never in reference to the well-being, happiness, freedom,
or peace of the inhabitants. He still held that the war in
its origin was just, for it had been absolutely necessary, he

544

NBW VIEWS OF THE WAB 646

id, to cut the meshes of the net in which Russia had CHAP,
tangled Turkey. He persisted in condemning the whole ^ ^^ j
[le and policy of Russia in 1854. By the end of 1854, ^t. 46.

Mr. Gladstone's eyes, this aggressive spirit had been
tinguished, the Czar promising an almost unreserved
ceptance of the very points that he had in the previous
igust angrily rejected. The essential objects of the war
jre the abolition of Russian rights in the Principalities,
d the destruction of Russian claims upon Greek Christians
ider Ottoman sway. These objects, Mr. Gladstone insisted,
sre attained in January 1855, when Russia agreed to three
t of the Four Points — so the bases of agreement were
.med — and only demurred upon the plan for carrying out a
irtion of the fourth. The special object was to cancel the
eponderance of Russia in the Black Sea. No fewer than
ven different plans were simultaneously or in turn pro-
>unded. They were every one of them admitted to be
ibious, inefficient, and imperfect. I will spare the reader
le mysteries of limitation, of counterpoise, of counterpoise
id limitation mixed. Russia preferred counterpoise, the
lies were for limitation. Was this preference between two
agrees of the imperfect, the deficient, and the ineffective a
ood ground for prolonging a war that was costing the allies
hundred million pounds a year, and involved to all the
arties concerned the loss of a thousand lives a day ? Yet,
)r saying No to this question, Mr. Gladstone was called

traitor, even by men who in 1868 had been willing to
ontent themselves with the Vienna note, and in 1864 had
een anxious to make peace on the basis of the Four Points,
n face of pleas so wretched for a prolongation of a war to
rhich he had assented on other grounds, was he bound
) silence ? * Would it not, on the contrary,' he exclaimed,
iiave been the most contemptible effeminacy of character,

a man in my position, who feels that he has been instru-
ental in bringing his country into this struggle, were
' hesitate a single moment when he was firmly convinced

his own mind that the time had arrived when we might
ith honour escape from it ? '
The prospect of reducing Russia to some abstract level of

VOL. I — 2n

646 POLITICAL ISOLATION

strength, so as to uphold an arbitrary standard of the
balance of power — this he regarded as mischief and chimera.
13^^ Rightly he dreaded the peril of alliances shifting from
day to day, like quicksands and sea-shoals — Austria moved
by a hundred strong and varying currents, France drawing
by unforeseen affinities towards Russia. Every war with
alliances, he once said, should be short, sharp, decisive.^

As was to be expected, the colleagues from whom he had
parted insisted that every one of his arguments told just as
logically against the war in all its stages, against the first as
legitimately as the last. In fact, we can never say a plain
sure aye or no to questions of peace and war, after the sword
has once left the scabbard. They are all matter of judgment
on the balance of policy between one course and another; and
a very slight thing may incline the balance either way, even
though mighty affairs should hang on the turn of the scale.
Meanwhile, as the months went on, Sebastopol still stood
untaken, excitement grew, people forgot the starting point
They ceased to argue, and sheer blatancy, at all times a power,
in war-time is supreme. Mr. Gladstone's trenchant dialectic
had no more chance than Bright's glowing appeals. Shrewd
and not unfriendly onlookers thought that Graham and
Gladstone were grievously mistaken in making common
cause with the peace party, immediately after quitting a war
government, and quitting it, besides, not on the issues of
the war. Herbert was vehement in his remonstrances. The
whole advantage of co-operation with the Manchester men,
he cried, would be derived by them, and all the disrepute
reaped by us. * For the purposes of peace, they were the
very men we ought to avoid. As advocates for ending the
war, they were out of court, for they were against beginning
it.' 2 If Gladstone and Graham had gone slower, their
friends said, they might have preached moderation to
ministers and given reasonable advice to people out of
doors. As it was, they threw the game into the hands of
Lord Palmerston. They were stamped as doctrinaires, and
what was worse, doctrinaires suspected of a spice of personal
animus against old friends. Herbert insisted that the Man-
^ See Appendix. * Herbert to Gladstone, May 27, 185(u

ADVOCATES OF PEACE 547

Chester school ^ forgot that the people have flesh and blood,
and propoimded theories to men swayed by national feeling.'
As a matter of fact, this was wholly untrue. Cobden and ,ffix^4a.
Bright, as everybody nowadays admits, had a far truer per-
ception of the underlying realities of the Eastern question
in 1854, than either the Aberdeen or the Palmerston cabinet,
or both of them put together. What was undeniable was
that the public, with its habits of rough and ready judgment,
did not understand, and could not be expected to under-
stand, the new union of the Peelites with a peace party, in
direct opposition to whose strongest views and gravest
warnings they had originally begun the war. * In Gladstone,'
Cornewall Lewis said, * people ascribe to faction, or ambition,
or vanity, conduct which I believe to be the result of a
conscientious, scrupulous, ingenuous, undecided mind, always
looking on each side of a question and magnifying
the objections which belong to almost every course of
action.'^

A foreign envoy then resident in England was struck by
the general ignorance of facts even among leading politicians.
Of the friends of peace, he says, only Lord Grey and Glad-
stone seemed to have mastered the Vienna protocols : the
rest were quite astonished when the extent of the Russian
concessions was pointed out to them. The envoy dined
with Mr. Gladstone at the table of the Queen, and they
talked of Milner Gibson's motion censuring ministers for
losing the opportunity of the Vienna conferences to make
a sound and satisfactory peace. Mr. Gladstone said to him
that he should undertake the grave responsibility of support-
ing this motion, * because in his opinion the concessions
promised by Russia contain sufficient guarantees. Those
very concessions will tear to pieces all the ancient treaties
which gave an excuse to Russia for interfering in the internal
affairs of Turkey.' ^

At all times stimulated rather than checked by a difficult
situation, Mr. Gladstone argued the case for peace to the

^ Many Memories^ p. 229. to July, 1855, is to be found in

' Vitzthum, St. Petersburg and Martin's Prince Consort^ iii. pp. 281-

London, i. p. 170. A full account of 307.

these parliamentary events from May

648 POLITICAL ISOLATION

House during the session of 1855 in two speeches of extraor-
dinary power of every kind. His position was perfectly
1866. tenable, and he defended it with unsurpassed force. For the
hour unfortunately his influence was gone. Great news-
papers thought themselves safe in describing one of these
performances as something between the rant of the fanatic
and the trick of the stage actor ; a mixture of pious grimace
and vindictive howl, of savage curses and dolorous fore-
bodings ; the most unpatriotic speech ever heard within the
walls of parliament. In sober fact, it was one of the three
or four most masterly deliverances evoked by the Crimean
war. At the very same time Lord John Russell was still
sitting in the cabinet, though he had held the opinion that
at the beginning of May the Austrian proposal ought to
have ended the war and led to an honourable peace. The
scandal of a minister remaining in a government that per-
sisted in a war condemned by him as unnecessary was in-
tolerable, and Lord John resigned (July 16).

The hopes of the speedy fall of Sebastopol brightened in
the summer of 1855, but this brought new alarms to Lord
Palmerston. ' Our danger,' he said in remarkable words,
* will then begin — a danger of peace and not a danger of war.'
To drive the Russians out of the Crimea was to be no more
than a preliminary. England would go on by herself, if
conditions deemed by her essential were not secured. ' The
British nation is unanimous, for I cannot reckon Cobden,
Bright, and Co. for anything.' ^ His account of the public
mind was indubitably true. Well might Aberdeen recall to
his friends that, with a single exception, every treaty con-
cluded at the termination of our great wars had been stigma-
tised as humiliating and degrading, ignominious, hollow and
unsafe. He cited the peace of Utrecht in 1713, the peace of
Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748, the peace of Paris in 1763, the
peace of Versailles in 1783, and the peace of Amiens in 1801.
The single exception was the peace of Paris in 1814. It
would have been difficult in this case, he said, for patriotism
or faction to discover humiliation ' in a treaty dictated at
the head of a victorious army in the capital of the enemy.*
^ Ashley, ii. pp. 320, 326.

AT PENMAENMAWB 649

While the storm was raging, Mr. Gladstone made his way chap.
with his familj'^ to Penmaenmawr, whence he writes to Lord ^ ^^^' ,
Aberdeen (Aug. 9) : 'It was a charitable act on your part to ^^ ^
write to me. It is hardly possible to believe one is not the
greatest scoundrel on earth, when one is assured of it from
all sides on such excellent authority. . . . I am busy reading
Homer about the Sebastopol of old time, and all manner of
other fine fellows.' In another letter of the same time,
written to Sir Walter James, one of the most closely attached
of all his friends, he strikes a deeper note : —

Sept, 17. — If I say I care little for such an attack you will
perhaps think I make little of sympathy like yours and Lord
Hardin ge's, but such, I beg you and him to believe, is not the
case. Public life is full of snares and dangers, and I think it a
fearful thing for a Christian to look forward to closing his life in
the midst of its (to me at least) essentially fevered activity. It
has, however, some excellent characteristics in regard to mental
and even spiritual discipline, and among these in particular it
absolutely requires the habits of resisting temper and of sup-
pressing pain. I never allow myself, in regard to my public life,
to realise, I'.e. to dwell upon, the fact that a thing is painful.
Indeed life has no time for such broodings : neither in session nor
recess is the year, the day, or the hour long enough for what it
brings with it. Nor was there ever a case in which it was so
little difficult to pass over and make little of a personal matter :
for if indeed it be true, as I fear it is, that we have been com-
mitting gi-ave errors, that those errors have cost many thousands
of lives and millions of money, and that no glare of success can
effectually hide the gloom of thickening complications, the man
who can be capable of weighing his own fate and prospects in the
midst of such contingencies has need to take a lesson from the
private soldier who gives his life to his country at a shilling
a day.

* We are on our way back,' he writes at the end of Sep-
tember, 'after a month of sea-bathing and touring among
the Welsh mountains. Most of my time is taken up with
Homer and Homeric literature, in which I am immersed
with great delight up to my ears ; perhaps I should say out

550 POLITICAL ISOLATION

of my depth/ Mr. Gladstone was one of the men whom the
agitations of politics can never submerge. Political interests
^^seT ^®^ what they ought to be, a very serious part of life ; but
they took their place with other things, and were never
sufifered, as in narrower natures sometimes happens, to blot
out ^ stars and orbs of sun and moon ' from the spacioos
firmament above us. He now found a shelter from the
intensity of the times in the systematic production of his
book on Homer, a striking piece of literature that became
the most definite of his pursuits for two years or more.
His children observed that he never lounged or strolled
upon the shore, but when the morning's labour was over—
and nothing was ever allowed to break or mutilate the daily
spell of serious work — he would stride forth staff in hand,
and vigorously breast the steepest bluffs and hills that he
could find. This was only emblematic of a temperament
to which the putting forth of power was both necessity and
delight. The only rest he ever knew was change of effort.

While he was on the Welsh coast Sebastopol fell, after
a siege of three hundred and fifty days. Negotiations for
peace were opened tolerably soon afterwards, ending, after
many checks and diplomatic difficulties, in the Treaty of
Paris (March 30, 1856), as to which I need only remind
the reader, with a view to a future incident in Mr. Gladstone's
history, that the Black Sea was neutralised, and all war-
ships of every nation excluded from its waters. Three
hundred thousand men had perished. Countless treasure
had been flung into the abyss. The nation that had won its
last victory at Waterloo did not now enhance the glory of its
arms, nor the power of its diplomacy, nor the strength of
any of its material interests. It was our French ally who
profited. The integrity of Turkey was so ill confirmed that
even at the Congress of Paris the question of the Danubian
Principalities was raised in a form that in a couple of years
reduced Turkish rule over six millions of her subjects to the
shadow of smoke. Of the confidently promised reform of
Mahometan dominion there was never a beginning nor a sign.
The vindication of the standing European order proved so
ineffectual that the Crimean war was only the sanguinary

WOBK OK HOMEB 551

prelude to a vast subversion of the whole system of European chap.
states- W^

^ JBt.47.

Other interests now came foremost in Mr. Gladstone's
mind. The old ground so constantly travelled over since the
death of Peel was for three years to come traversed again
with fatiguing iteration. In the spring of 1866 Lord Derby
repeated the overtures that he had made in specific form in
1851 and in 1865. The government was weak, as Mr. Glad-
stone had predicted that it would be. Lord Derby told Sir
William Heathcote, through whom he and Mr. Gladstone com-
municated, that as almost any day it might be overturned,
and he might be sent for by the Queen, he was bound to see
what strength he might rely upon, and he was anxious to
know what were Mr. Gladstone's views on the possibility of
co-operation. What was the nature of his relations with
other members of the Peel government who had also been
in the cabinet of Lord Aberdeen ? Did they systematically
communicate? Were they a party? Did they intend to
hold and to act together ? These questions were soon
answered : —

On the first point, Mr. Gladstone said, you cannot better
describe my views for present purposes than by saying that
they are much like Lord Derby's own as I understand them —
there was nothing in them to prevent a further consideration of
the subject, if public affairs shoyld assume such a shape as to
recommend it. On the second, I said Graham, Herbert, Cardwell,
and I communicated together habitually and confidentially ; that
we did not seek to act, but rather eschewed acting, as a party ;
that our habits of communication were founded upon long political
association, general agreement, and personal friendship ; that they
were not, however, a covenant for the future, but a natural
growth and result of the past.

Then he proceeds to tell with a new and rather startling
conclusion the old story of the Peelite responsibility for the
broken and disorganised state of the House of Commons : —

We, the friends of Lord Aberdeen, were a main cause of dis-
union and weakness in the executive government, and must be so,

552 POLITICAL ISOLATION

from whichever side the government were f ormed, so long as we
were not absolutely incorporated into one or the other of the two
1866. great parties. For though we had few positively and regularly
following us, yet we had indirect relations with others on both
sides of the House, which tended to relax, and so far disable, part^
connections, and our existence as a section encouraged the for-
mation of other sections all working with similar effects. I
carried my feeling individually so far upon the subject as even to
be ready, if I had to act alone, to surrender my seat in parliament,
rather than continue a cause of disturbance to any government to
which I might generally wish well.^

This exchange of views with Lord Derby he fully reported
to Graham, Herbert, and Cardwell, whom Lord Aberdeen,
at his request, had summoned for the purpose. Herbert
doubted the expediency of such communications, and Graham
went straight to what was a real point. * He observed that
the question was of the most vital consequence. Who should
lead the House of Commons ? This he thought must come
to me, and could not be with Disraeli. I had said and
repeated, that I thought we could not bargain Disraeli out
of the saddle ; that it must rest with him (so far as we were
concerned) to hold the lead if he pleased ; that besides my
looking to it with doubt and dread, I felt he had this right ;
and that I took it as one of the data in the case before us
upon which we might have to consider the question of
political junction, and which might be seriously affected by
it.' Of these approaches in the spring of 1856 nothing came.
The struggle in Mr. Gladstone's mind went on with growing
urgency. He always protested that he never at any time
contemplated an isolated return to the conservative ranks,
but 'reunion of a body with a body.'

Besides his sense of the vital importance of the recon-
struction of the party system, he had two other high related
aims. The commanding position that had first been held
in the objects of his activity by the church, then, for a con-
siderable space, by the colonies, was now filled by finance. As
he put it in a letter to his sympathetic brother Robertson : He
1 Memo. April 17, 1856.

KELATI0N8 WITH LOBD DERBY 553

saw two cardinal subjects for the present moment in public
affairs, a rational and pacific foreign policy, and second, the
due reduction in our establishments, economy in adminis- ^t.'47.
tration, and finance to correspond. In 1853 he had, as he
believed, given financial pledges to the country. These
pledges were by the present ministers in danger of being
forgotten. They were incompatible with Palmerston's spirit
of foreign policy. His duty, then, was to oppose that policy,
and to labour as hard as he could for the redemption of Ms
pledges. Yet isolated as he was, he had little power over
either one of these aims or the other. The liberal party was
determined to support the reigning foreign policy, and this
made financial improvement desperate. Of Lord Derby's
friends he was not hopeful, but they were not committed to
so dangerous a leader.^ As he put it to Elwin, the editor
of the QiLarterly: There is a policy going a begging; the
general policy that Sir Robert Peel in 1841 took oflBce to
support — the policy of peace abroad, of economy, of financial
equilibrium, of steady resistance to abuses, and promotion
of practical improvements at home, with a disinclination to
questions of reform, gratuitously raised.^

His whole mind beset, possessed, and on fire with ideals
of this kind, and with sanguine visions of the road by which
they might be realised — it was not in the temperament of this
bom warrior to count the lions in his path. He was only too
much in the right, as his tribulations of a later date so
amply proved, in his perception that neither Palmerston
nor Palmerstonian liberals would take up the broken clue
of Peel. The importunate presence of Mr. Disraeli was not
any sharper obstacle to a definite junction with conser-
vatives, than was the personality of Lord Palmerston to a
junction with liberals. As he had said to Graham in
November 1856, Hhe pain and strain of public duty is
multiplied tenfold by the want of a clear and firm ground
from which visibly to act.' In rougher phrase, a , man must
have a platform and work with a party. This indeed is for
sensible men one of the rudiments of practical politics.

1 To Robertson Gladstone, Dec. 16, 1856.

2 To Mr. Elwin, Dec. 2, 1850.

654 POLITICAL ISOLATION

Of a certain kind of cant about public life and office Mr.
Gladstone was always accustomed to make short work. The
1866. repudiation of desire for official power, he at this time and
always roundly denounced as ^sentimental and maudlin/
One of the not too many things that he admired in Lord
Palmerston was 'the manly frankness of his habitual
declarations that office is the natural and proper sphere
of a public man's ambition, as that in which he can most
freely use his powers for the common advantage of his
country.' 'The desire for office,' said Mr. Gladstone, 'is
the desire of ardent minds for a larger space and scope
within which to serve the country, and for access to the
command of that powerful machinery for information and
practice, which the public departments supply. He must
be a very bad minister indeed, who does not do ten times
the good to the country that he would do when out of office,
because he has helps and opportunities which multiply
twenty fold, as by a system of wheels and pulleys, his power
for doing it.' It is true, as the smallest of men may see —
and the smaller the man, the more will he make of it — that
this sterling good sense may set many a snare for the poli-
tician ; but then even the consecrated affectations of our
public life have their snares too.

The world was not in the secret of the communications
with Lord Derby, but the intrinsic probabilities of a case
often give to the public a trick of divination. In the middle
of December (185G) articles actually appeared in the prints
of the day announcing that Mr. Gladstone would at the open-
ing of the next session figure at the head of the opposition.
The tories, they said, wanted a leader, Mr. Gladstone wanted a
party. They were credulous, he was ingenious. The minority
in a party must yield to a majority, and he stood almost by
himself. He would be a returned prodigal in the conserva-
tive household, for unlike Sir James Graham, he had never
merged himself in the ordinary ruck of liberalism. A tory
peer writes to assure him that there never was such a chance
for the reunion of the party. Even the nobleman who had
moved Mr. Gladstone's expulsion from the Carlton said that
he supposed reunion must pretty soon come off. A few, per-

BBLATI0N8 WITH LORD DERBY 555

liaps under a score, made a great noise, but if Lord Derby CHAP,
would only form a government, the noisy ones would be as ^ j

^lad as the rest. True — and here the writer came nearer to jg^ 47
the central diflficulty — ' Disraeli ought at fint to lead the
Commons,' because he had been leader before ; second, he had
the greater number of followers; third, because on public
grounds he must desire to see Mr. Gladstone at the
exchequer; and to transfer to him both the great subject
of finance and the great prize of leadership would be im-
possible. So easy do flat impossibilities ever seem to
sanguine simpletons in Pall Mall. Another correspondent
has been staying at a grand country-house, full of tory
company, and the state of parties was much discussed —

* There was one unanimous opinion,' he tells Mr. Gladstone,

* that nothing could save the conservative party except elect-
ing you for their leader.' The same talk was reported from
the clubs. ' The diflBculty was Disraeli, not so much for any
damage that his hostility could do the party, as because
Lord Derby had contracted relations with him which it
would perhaps be impossible for him to disown.'

Meanwhile the sagacious man in the tents of the tories,
whose course was so neatly chalked out for him by sulky
followers not relishing his lead, was, we may be sure, entirely
wide-awake, watching currents, gales, and puflfs of wind with-
out haste, without rest. Disraeli made a bold stroke for
party consolidation by inviting to his official dinner at the
opening of the session of 1857, General Peel, the favourite
brother of the great minister and his best accredited repre-
sentative. Peel consulted Mr. Gladstone on the reply to
Disraeli's invitation, and found him strongly adverse. The
public, said Mr. Gladstone, views with much jealousy every
change of political position not founded on previous parlia-
mentary co-operation for some national object. Mr. Glad-
stone might have put it on the narrower ground that
attendance at the dinner would be an explicit condonation
of Disraeli's misdeeds ten years before, and a direct accept-
ance of his leadership henceforth.

Elwin believed that he had the direct sanction of Lord
Derby for a message from him to Mr. Gladstone suggesting

666 POLITICAL ISOLATION

communication. After much ruminating and consulting,
Mr. Gladstone wrote (Dec. 18, 1866) in sufficiently circui-
jg^ tons language to Elwin, that though he should not be
justified in communicating with Lord Derby, considered
simply as a political leader with whom he was not in rela-
tions of party, yet, he proceeds, * remembering that I waa
once his colleague, and placing entire reliance on his honour,
I am ready to speak to him in confidence and without re-
serve on the subject of public affairs, should it be his desire.'
His three friends, Graham, Aberdeen, and Herbert, still
viewed the proceeding with entire disfavour, and no coun-
sels were ever dictated by sincerer affection and solicitude.
Your financial scheme, says Graham, is conceived in the
very spirit of Peel ; it would be most conducive to national
welfare ; you alone and in high office can carry it ; but it
must be grafted on a pacific policy and on a moderate scale
of public expenditure ; it is not under Palmerston that such
blessings are to be anticipated; but then are they more
probable under Derby and Disraeli ? Lord Aberdeen took
another line, insisting that to make any sort of approach to
Lord Derby, after joining Palmerston only the previous year,
would be unjustifiable ; the bare apprehension of a vicious
policy would be no intelligible ground for changing sides;
more tangible reasons would be needed, and they were only
too likely soon to arrive from Palmerston's foreign policy.
Theti a reasonable chance might come. Herbert, in his turn,
told Mr. Gladstone that though he might infuse vigour and
respectability into a party that stood much in need of both,
yet he would always be in a false position. ' Your opinions
are essentially progressive, and when the measures of any
government must be liberal and progressive, the country
will prefer the men whose antecedents and mottoes are
liberal, while the conservatives will always prefer a leader
whose prejudices are with themselves.' As Graham put it
to him : ' If you were to join the tory party to-morrow, you
would have neither their confidence nor their real g^ood will,
and they would openly break with you in less than a year.'
It all reminds one of the chorus in Greek plays, sagely
expostulating with a hero bent on some dread deed of fate.

MEDITATIOKS 557

in

In the autumn of 1856 ecclesiastical questions held a strong CHAP,
place in Mr. Gladstone's interests. The condemnation of v ' ,
Archdeacon Denison for heresy roused him to lively indigna- jet. 4*^
tion. He had long interviews with the archdeacon, drafted
answers for him, and flung his whole soul into the case,
though he was made angry by Denison's oscillations and
general tone. ' Gladstone tells me,' said Aberdeen, 'that he
cannot sleep for it, and writes to me volumes upon volumes.
He thinks that Denison ought to have been allowed to show
that his doctrine, whether in accordance or not with the
articles, is in accordance with scripture. And he thinks
the decision ought to have been in his case as it was in
Gorham's, that the articles are comprehensive, that they
admit Denison's view of the Eucharist as well as that of
his opponents.'^

His closing entry for the year (1856) depicts an inner
mood : —

It appears to me that there are few persons who are so much as
I am enclosed in the invisible net of pendent steel. I have never
known what tedium was, have always found time full of calls and
duties, life charged with every kind of interest. But now when
I look calmly around me, I see that these interests are for ever
growing and grown too many and powerful, and that were it to
please God to call me I might answer with reluctance. . . . See
how I stand. Into politics I am drawn deeper every year ; in the
growing anxieties and struggles of the church I have no less
[interest] than I have heretofore ; literature has of late acquired
a new and powerful hold upon me; the fortunes of my wife's
family, which have had, with all their dry detail, all the most
exciting and arduous interest of romance for me now during nine
years and more ; seven children growing up around us, and each
day the object of deeper thoughts and feelings, and of higher
hopes to Catherine and me, — what a network is here woven out of
all that the heart and all that the mind of man can supply. . . .
^ Simpson^s Many Memories, p. 23S.

CHAPTER VIII

GENERAL ELECTION — NEW MABBIAGB LAW

No wave on the great ocean of Time, when once it has floated past
US, can be recalled. All we can do is to watch the new form and
motion of the next, and launch upon it to try in the manner our
best judgment may suggest our strength and skill. — Gladstohe.

In spite of wise counsels of circumspection, Mr. Gladstone
clung to the chances that might come from personal commu-
1867. nication between himself and Lord Derby. Under pressure
from his friends, he agreed with Lord Derby to put off an
interview until after the debate on the address. Then, after
parliament met, they took the plunge. We are now at the
beginning of February.

This afternoon at three I called on Lord Derby and remained
with him above three hours, in prosecution of the correspondence
which had passed between us.

I told him that I deliberately disapproved of the government of
Lord Palmerston, and was prepared and desirous to aid in any
proper measures which might lead to its displacement. That so
strong were my objections that I was content to act thus without
inquiring who was to follow, for I was convinced that any one who
might follow would govern with less prejudice to the public
interests. That in the existing state of public affairs I did not
pretend to see far, but thus far I saw clearly. I also told him
that I felt the isolated position in which I stood, and indeed in
which we who are called Peelites all stand, to be a great evil
as tending to prolong and aggravate that parliamentary dis-
organisation which so much clogs and weakens the working of
our government; and I denounced myself as a public nuisance.

568

PEELITE8 AND TOBIES 559

adding that it would be an advantage if my doctor sent me abroad CHAP,
for the session. v_!zi^

He concurred in the general sentiments which I had expressed, j^^ 43
but said it was material for him, as he had friends with and for
whom to act, and as I had alluded to the possibility, in the event
of a change, of his being invited by the Queen to form a govern-
ment, to consider beforehand on what strength he could rely. He
said he believed his friends were stronger than any other single
section, but that they were a minority in both Houses. Weak
in 1852, he was weaker now, for it was natural that four years of
exclusion from office should thin the ranks of a party, and such
had been his case. He described the state of feeling among his
friends, and adverted to the offer he had made in 1851 and in 1855.
The fact of an overture made and not accepted had led to much
bitterness or anger towards us among a portion of his adherents.
He considered that in 1855 Lord Palmerston had behaved far from
well either to Herbert and me, or to him.^

Other interviews followed; resolutions were discussed,
amendments, forms of words. They met at discreet dinners.
' Nobody,' Lord Derby tells him, ' except Disraeli knows the
length to which our communications have gone.' Nobody,
that is to say, excepting also Mr. Gladstone's three personal
allies ; them he kept accurately informed of all that passed
at every stage. On February 13 the government presented
their budget. In introducing his plan, Cornewall Lewis
rashly quoted, and adopted as his own, the terrible heresy of
Arthur Young, that to multiply the number of taxes is a
step towards equality of burden, and that a good system of
taxation is one that bears lightly on an infinite number of
points. The reader will believe how speedily an impious
opinion of this sort kindled volcanic flame in Mr. Gladstone's
breast. He thought moreover that he espied in the minis-
terial plan a prospective deficiency a year ahead. To
maintain a steady surplus of income over expenditure, he
reflected ; to lower indirect taxes when excessive in amount,
for the relief of the people, and bearing in mind the repro-
ductive power inherent in such operations ; to simplify our
1 See above pp. 626-8.

560 GENERAL ELECTION — NEW MABBLAGB LAW

fiscal system by concentrating its pressure on a few well
chosen articles of extended consumption ; and to conciliate
1867. support to the income-tax by marking its temporar}-
character, and by associating it with beneficial changes in
the tariff : these aims have been for fifteen years the labour
of our life. By this budget he found them in principle
utterly reversed. He told his friends that the shade of Peel
would appear to him if he did not oppose such plans with
his whole strength. When the time came (Feb. 8), 'the
government was fired into from aU quarters. DisraeU in
front ; Gladstone on flank ; John Russell in rear. Disraeli
and Gladstone rose at same time. Speaker called the
former. Both spoke very well. It was a night of triumph
for Gladstone.'^

There is another note of the proceedings on Lewis's
budget : —

Saturday f Feb, 1^. — I was engaged to meet Graham, Herbert,
and Cardwell at Lord Aberdeen's, and I knew from Lord Derby
that he was to see his friends at noon. So I went to him on mj
way, first to point out the deficit of between five and six millions for
1858-9 which is created by this budget, with the augmentations of
it in subsequent years ; and secondly, to say that in my opinion
it was hopeless to attack the scheme in detail, and that it must be
resisted on the ground of deficit as a whole, to give a hope of
success. I said that if among the opposition there still lingered a
desire to revive and extend indirect taxation, I must allow that
the government had bid high for support from those who enter-
tained it ; that it was the worst proposition I had ever heard from
a minister of finance. At Lord Aberdeen's we examined the
figures of the case, and drafted two resolutions which expressed
our opinions.

The more serious point, however, was that they all wished me
to insist upon taking the motion into my own hands; and
announcing this to Lord J. Russell as well as to Lord Derby.
As to the second I had no difficulty, could I have acceded to the
first. But I did not doubt that Disraeli would still keep hold of
so much of his notice of Feb. 3 as had not been set aside by the
1 PhiUimore's Diary.

CO-OPERATION WITH MB. DISRAELI 661

budget. I said that from motives which I could neither describe CHAP.

VII
nor conquer I was quite unable to undertake to enter into any ^ ' j

squabble or competition with him for the possession of a post of j^^^ 43
prominence. We had much conversation on political prospects :
Graham wishing to see me lead the Commons under Lord John as
prime minister in the Lords; admitting that the same thing
would do under Lord Derby, but for Disraeli, who could not be
throMm away like a sucked orange ; and I vehemently deploring
our position, which I said, and they admitted, was generally con-
demned by the country.

I again went to Derby, as he had requested, at five ; and he
told me that he had had with him Malmesbury, Hardwicke,
Disraeli, Pakington, Walpole, Lytton. They had all agreed that
the best motion would be a resolution (from Disraeli) on Monday,
before the Speaker left the chair, which would virtually rest the
question on deficit. I made two verbal suggestions on the resolu-
tion to improve its form.

Late in the evening Lord Derby writes, enclosing a note

received at dinner from Disraeli, ' I hope I may take it for

granted that there is now a complete understanding between

us as to the move on Monday night.' 'My dear lord,' runs

the note, 'I like the resolution as amended. It is improved.

Yours ever, D.' When Monday came, the move was duly

made, and Gladstone and Disraeli again fought side by side as

twin champions of the cause of reduced expenditure. Time

had incensed Mr. Gladstone still further, and he conducted

a terrific fusillade. He recounted how between 1842 and

1853 two and twenty millions of taxation had been taken

off without costing a farthing. 'A man may be glad and

thankful to have been an Englishman and a member of the

British parliament during these years, bearing his part in so

blessed a work. But if it be a blessed work, what are we to

say of him who begins the undoing of it? ' The proposal of

the government showed a gross, a glaring, an increasing

deficiency, a deficiency unparalleled in the financial history

of a quarter of a century. It was deluding the people and

trifling with national interests. It is certain that no financier

before or since ever, in Cromwellian phrase, made such a

VOL. I — 2o

562 GBNEBAL ELECTION

conscience of the matter, or ever found the task more thank-
less.^ Great as was the effect of the close and searching
1857. Argument that accompanied all this invective, even Mr.
Gladstone's friends thought it too impassioned and too
severe upon Lewis, in whose favour there was consequently
a reaction. The cool minister contented himself with
quoting Horace's lines upon the artist skilled in reproducing
in his bronze fierce nails or flowing hair, yet who fails
because he lacks the art to seize the whole.^

At the end of February (1867), at a party meeting of 160
members. Lord Derby told his men that the course taken
by Mr. Disraeli upon the budget had been concerted with
him and had his entire approval ; spoke with admiration of
Mr. Gladstone ; justified political union when produced by
men finding themselves drawn to the same lobby by identity
of sentiment ; and advised them not to decline such acees>
sion of strength as would place their party in a position to
undertake the government of the country. The newspapers
cried out that the long-expected coalition had at length really
taken place. In their hearts the conservative managers were
not sure that Mr. Gladstone's adhesion would not cost them
too dearly. ' He would only benefit us by his talents' (sayg
Lord Malmesbury) 'for we should lose many of our sup-
porters. The Duke of Beaufort, one of our staunchest
adherents, told me at Longleat that if we coalesced with
the Peelites he would leave the party, and I remember in
1855, when Lord Derby attempted to form a government,
and offered places to Gladstone and Herbert, that no less
than eighty members of the House of Commons threatened
to leave him.'^ All these schemes and calculations were
destined to be rudely interrupted.

n

While he was acting with Lord Derby on the one hand,
Mr. Gladstone sought counsel from Cobden on the other,
having great confidence in his ' firmness and integrity of

1 The reader will find a candid * Ars Poetica, 32-6.
statement of the controversy in North- * Malmesbury, Memoirs^ ii Pfl
cote, Financial Policy, pp. 306-329. 56-7. See aboYC, p. 636.

8PEE09 ON THE CHINA WAR 563

purpose,' and hoping for support from him in face of a chap.
faint-hearted disposition to regard Lord Palmerston as a ^ ^^^^' ^
magician against whom it was vain to struggle. Events ^x.48.
were speedily to show that Lord Palmerston had more
magic at his disposal than his valiant foe believed. The
agent of the British government in the China seas — himself,
by the way, a philosophic radical — had forced a war upon
the Chinese. The cabinet supported him. On the motion
of Cobden, the House censured the proceeding. Mr. Glad-
stone, whose hatred of high-handed iniquities in China had
been stirred in early days,^ as the reader may recall,
made the most powerful speech in a remarkable debate.
* Gladstone rose at half -past nine,' Phillimore says (Mar.
3), 'and delivered for nearly two hours an oration which
enthralled the House, and which for argument, dignity,
eloquence, and effect is unsurpassed by any of his former
achievements. It won several votes. Nobody denies that
his speech was the finest delivered in the memory of
man in the House of Commons.' Apart from a rigorous
examination of circumstance and fact in the special
case, as in the famous precedent of Don Pacifico seven
years before, he raised the dispute to higher planes
and in most striking language. He examined it both
by municipal and international law, and on 'the higher
gpround of natural justice ' — ' that justice which binds
man to man; which is older than Christianity, because
it was in the world before Christianity ; which is broader
than Christianity, because it extends to the world be-
yond Christianity; and which underlies Christianity, for
Christianity itself appeals to it. . . . War taken at the best
is a frightful scourge upon the human race ; but because it
is so, the wisdom of ages has surrounded it with strict laws
and usages, and has required formalities to be observed
which shall act as a curb upon the wild passions of man.
. . . You have dispensed with all these precautions. You
have turned a consul into a diplomatist, and that meta-
morphosed consul is forsooth to be at liberty to direct the
whole might of England against the lives of a defenceless
^ See above, p. 225.

564 GENERAL ELECTION

BOOK people.' Disraeli in turn denounced proceedings which
' J began in outrage and ended in ruin, mocked at ' No reform,

1867. ^®w taxes, Canton blazing, Persia invaded,' as the programme
of the party of progress and civilisation, and reprobated a
prime minister who had professed almost every principle,
and connected himself with almost every party. Palmerston
replied by a stout piece of close argument, spiced by taunts
about coalitions, combinations, and eloquent flourishes. But
this time in parliament his slender majority failed him.

March 3, '57. — Spoke on Cobden's resolutions, and voted in 263-
247 — a division doing more honour to the House of Commons
than any I ever remember. Home with C. and read Lord Elles-
mere's Faust^ being excited, which is rare with me. (Diary.)

The repulse was transient. The minister appealed to the
constituencies, and won a striking triumph. Nearly all the
Manchester politicians, with Bright and Cobden at their head,
were ruthlessly dismissed, and the election was a glorious
ratification not only of the little war among the Chinese
junks, but of the great war against the Czar of Russia, and
of much besides. This, said Mr. Gladstone, was not an elec-
tion like that of 1784, when Pitt appealed on the question
whether the crown should be the slave of an oligarchic
faction; nor like that of 1831^ when Grey sought a judgment
on reform ; nor like that of 1852, when the issue was the
expiring controversy of protection. The* country was to
decide not upon the Canton river, but whether it would or
would not have Lord Palmerston for prime minister. ' The
insolent barbarian wielding authority at Canton who had
violated the British flag ' was indeed made to play his part.
But the mainspring of the electoral victory was to be sought
in the profound public weariness of the party dispersions of
the last eleven years ; in the determination that the country
should be governed by men of intelligible opinions and
definite views ; in the resolution that the intermediate
tints should disappear; in the conviction that Palmerston
was the helmsman for the hour. The result was justiv
compared to the plebiscite taken in France four or five
years earlier, whether they would have Louis Napoleon for

LORD PALMEESTON'S TRIUMPH 565

emperor or not. It was computed that no fewer than one- CHAP,
sixth, or at best one-seventh, of the most conspicuous y ' j
men in the former House of Commons were thrust out. ^t.48.
The Derbyites were sure that the report of the coali-
tion with the Peelites had done them irreparable harm,
though their electioneering was independent. At Oxford
Mr. Gladstone was returned without opposition. On the
otiier hand, his gallant attempt to save the seat of his
brother-in-law in Flintshire failed, his many speeches met
much rough interruption, and to his extreme mortification
Sir Stephen Glynne was thrown out.

The moral of the general election was undoubtedly a
heavy shock to Mr. Gladstone, and he was fully conscious
of the new awkwardness of his public position. Painful
change seemed imminent even in his intimate relations with
cherished friends. Sidney Herbert had written to him that
as for Gladstone, Graham, and himself, they were not only
broken up as a party, but the country intended to break
them up and would resent any attempt at resuscitation ; they
ought on no account to reappear as a triumvirate on their
old bench. Mr. Gladstone's reply discloses in some of its
phrases a peculiar warmth of sensibility, of which he was
not often wont to make much display : —

To Sidney Herbert.
March 22, 1857. — I did not reply to your letter when it
arrived, because it touches principally upon subjects with respect
to which I feel that my mind has been wrought into a state of
sensitiveness which is excessive and morbid. For the last eleven
years, with the exception of only two among them, the pains of
political strife have not for us found their usual and proper com-
pensation in the genial and extended sympathies of a great body
of comrades, while suspicion, mistrust, and criticism have flanked
us on both sides and in unusual measure. Our one comfort has
been a concurrence of opinion which has been upon the whole
remarkably close, and which has been cemented by the closer
bonds of feeling and of friendship. The loss of this one comfort
I have no strength to face. Contrary to your supposition, I have
nothing with which to replace it ; but the attachments, which

566 GElirEBAL ELECnOK

began with political infancy, and which have lived throogh so
many atorms and so many subtler vicissitudes will never be
1857. ^P^ced. You will never be able to get away from me as long
as I can cling to you, and if at length, urged by your ccnscience
and deliberate judgment, you effect the operation, the result will
not be to throw me into the staff of Lord Derby. I shall seek
my duty, as well as consult my inclination, first, by absconding
from what may be termed general politics, and secondly, bj
appearing, wherever I must appear, only in the ranks.

I can neither give even the most qualified adhesion to the
ministry of Lord Palmerston, nor follow the liberal party in the
abandonment of the very principles and pledges which were
original and principal bonds of union with it So, on the other
hand, I never have had any hope of conservative reconstmction
except (and that slender and remote) such as presupposed the
co-operation — I am now speaking for the House of Commons only
— of yourself and Graham in particular. By adopting Reform as
a watchword of present political action he has certainly inserted a
certain amount of gap between himself and me, which may come
to be practically material or may not. If you make a gap upon
this opportunity, I believe it will be a novelty in political history:
it will be the first case on record of separation between two men,
all of whose views upon every public question, political, adminis-
trative, or financial, are I believe in as exact accordance as under
the laws of the human mind is possible. . . .

His leaning towards the conservative party seemed to
become more decided rather than less. Lord Aberdeen had
written to him as if the amalgamation of Peel's friends with
the liberal party had practically taken place. 'If that be
true,' Mr. Gladstone replies (April 4, 1857), 'then I have .
been deceiving both the world and my constituents, and the I
deception has reached its climax within the last fortnight,
during which I have been chosen without opposition to
represent Oxford under a belief directly contrary in the
minds of the majority of my constituents.* He saw nothing
but evil in Lord Palmerston's supremacy. That was his
unending refrain. He tells one of his constituents, the
state of things 'is likely to end in much political con-

DIVOECB BILL 567

fusion if it is not stopped by the failure of Lord Palmerston's chap.
physical force, the only way of stopping it which I could ^ ^^^* ^
view with regret, for I admire the pluck with which he ^^^ ^g
fights against the infirmities of age, though in political and
moral courage I have never seen a minister so deficient.'
Cobden asked him in the course of the first session of the
new parliament, to take up some position adverse to the
ministers. ' I should not knowingly,' Mr. Gladstone replies
(June 16, 1867), ' allow any disgust with the state of public
affairs to restrain me from the discliarge of a public duty ;
but I arrived some time ago at the conclusion, which has
guided my conduct since the dissolution, that the House of
Commons would sooner and more healthily return to a sense
of its own dignity and of its proper functions, if let alone by
a person who had so thoroughly worried both it and the
country as myself.*

in

This stern resolve to hold aloof did not last. Towards the
end of the session a subject was brought before parliament
that stirred him to the very depths of heart and conscience.
It marked one more stage of the history of English laws
in that immense process of the secularisation of the state,
against which, in his book of 1838, Mr. Gladstone had drawn
up, with so much weight of reading and thought, a case so
wholly unavailing. The legal doctrine of marriage had been
established against the theological doctrine by Lord Hard-
wicke's famous act of 1753, for that measure made the
observance of certain requirements then set up by law
essential to a good marriage. A further fundamental change
had begun with the legislation of civil marriage in 1836.
The conception of marriage underlying such a change
obviously removed it from sacrament, or anything like a
sacrament, to the bleak and frigid zone of civil contract ;
it was antagonistic, therefore, to the whole ecclesiastical
theory of divorce.^

1 It is a striking indication of the ns, but compulsory in 1702, divorce

tenacity of custom against logic that was banished from French law from

in France, though civil marriage was 1816 down to 1884.
made not merely permissive, as with

568 NEW MAKBIAGE LAW

A royal commission issued a report in 1853, setting forth
the case against the existing system of dissolving marriage,
1857. ^^^ recommending radical changes. In the following year
the cabinet of which Mr. Gladstone was a member framed
and introduced a bill substantially conforming to these
recommendations. For one reason or another it did not
become law, nor did a bill of similar scope in 1856. In the
interval of leisure that followed, Mr. Gladstone was pressed,
perhaps by Bishop Wilberforce, thoroughly to consider the
matter. With his prepossessions, there could be little doubt
that he would incline to that view of marriage, and the
terms and legal effects of loosening the marriage tie, that
the Council of Trent had succeeded in making the general
marriage law of catholic Europe. The subject was one
peculiarly calculated to interest and excite him. Religion
and the church were involved. It raised at our own hearths
the eternal question of rendering to Cajsar what is Csesar's,
and to the church what belongs to the church. It was
wrapped up with topics of history and of learning. It could
not be discussed without that admixture of legality and
ethics which delights a casuistic intellect. Above all, it went
to the root both of that deepest of human relations, and of
that particular branch of morals, in which Mr. Gladstone
always felt the vividest concern. So, in short, being once
called upon for a practical purpose to consider divorce and
the many connected questions of re-marriage, he was inevita-
bly roused to a fervour on one side, not any less heated and
intense than the fervour of the mighty Milton on the other
side two centuries before. He began operations by an
elaborate article in the Quarterly Review,^ Here he flings
himself upon the well-worn texts in the Bible familiar to the
readers of Tetrachordon^ — if, indeed, Tetrachardan have any
readers, — with a dialectical acuteness and force that only
make one wonder the more how a mind so powerful as
Mr. Gladstone's could dream that, at that age of the
world, men would suffer one of the most far-reaching of
all our social problems, whatever be the right or wrong
social solution, to be in the slightest degree affected bv
1 July 1857. Reprinted in Gleanings^ vi. p. 47.

INTEREST IN LAW OP DIVORCE 569

Greek word or two of utterly disputable and unfixed CHAP,
gnificance. ' ,

I may note in passing that in another department of je^. 43.
apposed Levitical prohibition — the case of the wife's sister —
e had in 1849 strongly argued against relaxation, mainly on
le ground that it would involve an alteration of the law
id doctrines of the church of England, and therefore of
le law of Christianity.^ Experience and time revolution-
ed Ids point of view, and in 1869, in supporting a bill
igalising these marriages, he took the secular and utilitarian
ne, and said that twelve or fourteen years earlier (about
le time on which we are now engaged) he formed the
pinion that it was the mass of the community to which we
lUst look in dealing with such a question, and that the
lirest course would be to legalise the marriage contracts in
lestion, and legitimise their issue, leaving to each religious
)mmunity the question of attaching to such marriages a
iligious character.2

The Divorce bill of 1857 was introduced in the Lords,
id passed by them without effective resistance. It was
iI>ported by the Archbishop of Canterbury and nine
her prelates. Authorities no less exalted than Bishop
''ilberforce were violently hostile, even at one stage
trrying amendments (ultimately rejected), not only for
•ohibiting the inter-marriage of the guilty parties, but
jtually imposing a fine or imprisonment on either of them,
his, I fancy, is the high-water mark of the ecclesiastical
leory in the century.^ Lord Mahon in a letter to Mr.
ladstone at this date pictures Macaulay's New Zealander
3ing taken to the House of Lords and hearing learned lords
id reverend prelates lay down the canon that marriage is
idissoluble by the law of England and by the law of the
lurch. But who, he might have asked, are those two
entlemen listening so intently ? Oh, these are two gentle-
len whose marriages were dissolved last year. And that
:her man? Oh, he was divorced last week. And those

I House of Commons, June 20, 1849. • It may be said that the exaction
^ Ihid,.^ July 20, 1869. See also of damages comes to the same thing.
leanings, vi. p. 60.

570 NEW MABBIAQE LAW

three ladies ? Oh, their marriages may in all probability be
dissolved in another year or two. Still tliis view of the
is'sT. absurdity of existing practice did not make a convert.

As soon as the bill came down to the House of Commons
Mr. Gladstone hastened up to London in the dog-days. *A
companion in the railway carriage,' he wrote to Mrs. Glad-
stone, 'more genial than congenial, offered me his Tlmei,
and then brandy ! This was followed by a proposal to smoke,
so that he had disabled me from objecting on personal
grounds.' Tobacco, brandy at odd hours, and the news-
paper made a triple abomination in a single dose, for none
of the three was ever a favourite article of his consumption.
In London he found the counsels of his friends by no means
encouraging for the great fight on which he was intent.
They deprecated anything that would bring him into direct
collision with Lord Palmerston. They urged that violent
opposition now would be contrasted with his past silence,
and with his own cabinet responsibility for the very same
proposal. Nothing would be intelligible to the public. Lord
Aberdeen said, beyond a 'carefully moderated course.' But
a carefully moderated course was the very last thing possible
to Mr. Gladstone when the flame was once kindled, and he
fought the bill with a holy wrath as vehement as the more
worldly fury with which Henry Fox, from very different
motives, had fought the marriage bill of 1753. The thought
that stirred him was indicated in a phrase or two to his wife
at Ha warden : ' July 31. — Parliamentary affairs are very
black ; the poor church gets deeper and deeper into the
mire. I am to speak to-night ; it will do no good ; and the
fear grows upon me from year to year that when I finally
leave parliament, I sliall not leave the great question of state
and church better, but perhaps even worse, than I found it/

The discussion of the bill in the Commons occupied no
fewer than eighteen sittings, more than one of them, accord-
ing to the standard of those primitive times, inordinately
long. In the hundred encounters between Mr. Gladstone
and Bethell, polished phrase barely hid unchristian desire
to retaliate and provoke. Bethell boldly taunted Mr. Glad-
stone with insincerity. Mr. Gladstone, with a vivacity very

VEHEMENT OPPOSITION 571

like downright anger, reproached Bethell with being a mere CHAP,
hewer of wood and drawer of water to the cabinet who ^ ^ ' y
forced the bill into his charge ; with being disorderly and jet. 48.
abusing the privileges of speech by accusations of insincerity,

* which have not only proceeded from his mouth but gleamed
from those eloquent eyes of his, which have been continu-
ously turned on me for the last ten minutes, instead of being
addressed to the chair.' On every division those who
aflGrmed the principle of the bill were at least two to one.
' All we can do,' Mr. Gladstone wrote to his wife, * is to put
shoulder to shoulder, and this, please God, we will do.
Graham is with us, much to my delight, and much too, let
me add, to my surprise. I am as thankful to be in parlia-
ment for this (almost) as I was for the China vote. . . .
Yesterday ten and a-half hours, rather angry ; to-day with
pacification, but still tough and prolonged.' An unfriendly
but not wholly unveracious chronicler says of this ten hours'
sitting (August 14) on a single clause : ' Including questions,
explanations, and interlocutory suggestions, Mr. Gladstone
made nine-and-twenty speeches, some of them of consider-
able length. Sometimes he was argumentative, frequently
ingenious and critical, often personal, and not less often
indignant at the alleged personality of others.'

He made no pretence of thinking the principle of divorce
a mnculo anything but an immense evil, but he still held
himself free, if that view were repudiated, to consider the
legislative question of dissolubility and its conditions. He
resorted abundantly to what Palmerston called 'the old
standard set-up form of objecting to any improvement, to
say that it does not carry out all the improvements of which
the matter in hand is susceptible.' One of the complaints
of which he made most was the inequality in the bill
between the respective rights of husband and wife. 'It is
the special and peculiar doctrines of the Gospel,' he said,

* respecting the personal relation of every Christian, whether
man or woman, to the person of Christ, that form the firm,
the broad, the indestructible basis of the equality of the
sexes under the Christian law.' Again, ' in the vast majority
of instances where the woman falls into sin, she does so from

572 NBW MABBIAGE LAW

motives less impure and ignoble than those of the man.'
He attacks with just vigour the limitation of legal cruelty in
1867. ^^^8 ^^^ *^ ^^^ cruelty of mere force importing danger to Ufe,
limb, or health, though he was shocked in after years, as well
he might be, at the grotesque excess to which the doctrine
of ' mental cruelty ' has been carried in some States of the
American Union. In this branch of the great controversy,
at any rate, he speaks in a nobler and humaner temper than
Milton, who writes with a tyrannical Jewish belief in the
inferiority of women to men, and wives to husbands, that
was in Mr. Gladstone's middle life slowly beginning to melt
away in English public opinion. His second complaint, and
in his eyes much the more urgent of the two, was the right
conferred by the government bill upon divorced persons to
claim marriage by a clergyman in a church, and still more
bitterly did he resent the obligation imposed by the bill upon
clergymen to perform such marriages. Here the fight was
not wholly unsuccessful, and modifications were secured as
the fruit of his efforts, narrowing and abating, though not
removing, his grounds of objection.^

IV

Before the battle was over, he was torn away from the
scene by a painful bereavement. Mrs. Gladstone was at
Hagley nursing her beloved sister. Lady Lyttelton. He
wrote to his wife in the fiercest hours of the fight (11 Carlton
House Terrace, Aug. 15) : ' I read too plainly in your letter
of yesterday that your heart is heavy, and mine too is heavy
along with yours. I have been in many minds about mv
duty to-day; and I am all but ready to break the bands
even of the high obligations that have kept me here with

1 In republishing in 1878 his article the proportion of divorce decrees tn

from the Quarterly (Gleanings^ vi. p. population are both of them lower

106), he says his arguments have been than they were a few years ago. Mr.

too sadly illustrated by the mis- Gladstone used to desire the pn>

chievous effects of the measure. The hibition of publicity in these pzweed-

judicial statistics, however, hardly ings, until he learned the strong view

support this view, that petitions for of the president of the Court that

divorce were constantly increasing, the hideous glare of this publicity

and at an accelerating rate of pro- acts probably as no inconsiderable

gression. In England the proportion deterrent,
of divorce petitions to marriages and

DEATH OF LADY LYTTBLTON 678

reference to the marriage bill. You have only to speak the CHAV.
word by telegraph or otherwise, showing that I can help to ,^^^
give any of the support you need, and I come to you. As j^^ ^
matters stand I am wanted in the House to-day, and am
wanted for the Divorce bill again on Monday.' Before
Monday came. Lady Lyttelton was no more. Four days
after her death, Mr. Gladstone wrote to Mr. Arthur Gordon
from Hagley : —

The loss suffered here is a dreadful one, but it is borne in the
way which robs death and all evil of its sting. My deceased
sister-in-law was so united with my wife ; they so drew from their
very earliest years, and not less since marriage than before it,
their breath so to speak in common, that the relation I bore to
her conveys little even of what I have lost ; but that again is little
compared to my wife's bereavement ; and far above all to that of
Lyttelton, who now stands lonely among his twelve children.
But the retrospect from first to last is singularly bright and pure.
She seemed to be one of those rare spirits who do not need afflic-
tion to draw them to their Lord, and from first to last there was
scarce a shade of it in her life. When she was told she was to
die, her pulse did not change; the last communion appeared
wholly to sever her from the world, but she smiled upon her
husband within a minute of the time when the spirit fled.

CHAPTER IX

THE SECOND DERBY GOVERNMENT

(1858)

Extra YAOANCE and exaggeration of ideas are not the essential
characteristic of either political party in this country. Both of
them are composed in the main of men with English hearts and
English feelings. Each of them comprises within itself far greater
diversities of political principles and tendencies, than can he noted
as dividing the more moderate portion of the one from the more
moderate portion of the other. . . . Bat while the great English
parties differ no more in their general outlines than hy a somewhat
varied distrihution of the same elements in each, they are liahle to be
favourably or unfavourably affected and their essential character-
istics unduly exaggerated, by circumstances of the order that would
be termed accidental. — Gladstone.

The turn of the political wheel is constantly producing
strange results, but none has ever been more strikingly
1858. dramatic than when, on February 20, Bright and Milner
Gibson, who had been ignominiously thrown out at Miui-
chester the year before, had the satisfaction of walking to
the table of the House of Commons as victorious tellers in
the division on the Conspiracy to Murder bill that over-
threw Lord Palmerston. A plot to slay the French Emperor
had been organised by a band of Italian refugees in London.
The bombs were manufactured in England. Orsini's design
miscarried, but feeling in France was greatly excited, and
the French government formally drew attention at St.
James's to the fact that bodies of assassins abused our right
of asylum. They hinted further that the amity of the crown
called for stronger law. Palmerston very sensibly did not
answer the French despatch, but introduced a bill with new
powers against conspiracy. He in an instant became tli»'

674

LOBD PALMBEISTON DEFEATED 675

most unpopular man in the country, and the idol of the CHAP,

year before was now hooted in the Park. k ^^ j

Mr. Gladstone was at first doubtful, but soon made up his ^, 49
mind. To Mrs. Gladstone he writes (Feb. 17) : —

As respects the Conspiracy bill, you may depend upon our
having plenty of fight ; the result is doubtful ; but if the bill gets
into the House of Lords it will pass. Lord Aberdeen is strong
against it. From him I went to-day to Lord Lyndhurst, and I
found Lord Brougham with him. A most interesting conversation
followed with these two wonderful old men at 80 and 86 (coming
next birthday) respectively, both in the fullest possession of their
faculties, Brougham vehement, impulsive, full of gesticulation, and
not a little rambling, the other calm and clear as a deep pool upon
rock. Lord Lyndhurst is decidedly against the bill, Brougham
somewhat inclines to it ; being, as Lord Lyndhurst says, half a
Frenchman. [Lord Lyndhurst expotmded the matter in a most
luminous way from his point of view. Brougham went into
raptures and used these words : * I tell you what, Lyndhurst, I
wish I could make an exchange with you. I would give you some
of my walking power, and you should give me some of your
brains.' I have often told the story with this brief commentary,
that the compliment was the highest I have ever known to be
paid by one human being to another.]*

The debate showed a curious inversion of the parts usually
played by eminent men. Palmerston vainly explained that
he was doing no more than international comity required, and
doing no worse than placing the foreign refugee on the same
footing in respect of certain offences as the British subject.
Mr. Gladstone (Feb. 19), on the other hand, ' as one who has
perhaps too often made it his business to call attention to
the failings of his countrymen,' contended that if national
honour was not henceforth to be a shadow and a name, it

^ The portion within brackets is of some of them. Once I remember

from a letter of Mr. Gladstone's to in the Peel cabinet the conversation

Lady Lyndhurst, Aug. 31, 1883, and happened to touch some man (there

he continues: *I have often com- are such) who was too fond of making

pared Lord Lyndhurst in my own difficulties. Peel said to your hus-

mind with the five other lord chan- band, *'That is not your way, Lynd-

cellors who since his time have been hurst." Of all the intellects 1 have

my coUeaprues in cabinet: much to ever known, his, I think, worked

the disadvantage in certain respects with the least friction.'

676 THE SECOND DEBBY GOVERNMENT

BOOK was the paramount, absolute, and imperative duty of Her
• ^ Majesty's ministers to protest against the imputation upon

1858. "^ ^^ favour for assassination, 'a plant which is congenial
neither to our soil nor to the climate in which we live/^
One of the truest things said in the debate was Disraeli's
incidental observation that 'the House should remember
that in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, when there is a
quarrel between two states, it is generally occasioned by
some blunder of a ministry.' Mr. Disraeli perhaps con-
soled himself by the pithy saying of Baron Brunnow, that
if no one made any blunders, there would be no politics.
The blood of the eivia JRomanuSj however, was up, and
Palmerston, defeated by a majority of nineteen, at once
resigned.

Lord Derby, whose heart had failed him three years
earlier, now formed his second administration, and made
one more attempt to bring Mr. Gladstone over to the
conservative ranks. Lord Lansdowne had told the Queen
that no other government was possible, and an hour after
he had kissed hands the new prime minister applied to Mr.
Gladstone. The decisions taken by him in answer to this
and another application three months later, mark one more
of the curious turning points in his career and in the fate
of his party.

Feb, 20, 1858. — Dined at Herbert's with Graham- We sat till
12^, but did not talk quite through the crisis. Palmerston has
resigned. He is down. I must now cease to denounce him.
21. — St. James's morning, and holy communion. Westminster
Abbey in evening, when I sat by Sir George Grey. From St
James's I went to Lord Aberdeen's. There Derby's letter reached
me. We sent for Herbert and I wrote an answer. Graham
arrived and heard it; with slight modifications it went. The
case though grave was not doubtful. Made two copies and went

1 ' Happily for the reputation of . . . much as there was to lament in
the House, but unhappily for the the too radical tone of his often fine-
ministry, the debate assumed once spun argumentation. His thundering
more, with Gladstone's eloquence, a periods were received with thunder-
statesmanlike character. The fore- ing echoes of applause.' — Vitzthum,
most speaker of the House showed St. Petersburg and London, L p. 273.
himself worthy of bis reputation

COBBE8PONDEN0B WITH LOBD DBBBY 677

off before 6 with S. Herbert We separated for the evening with CHAP,
the fervent wish that in public life we might never part ^ ^^' ^

Two or three letters exhibit the situation : — -®t. 49.

Lord Derby to Mr, Gladstone.

St, Jame^s Square, Feb, 21, 1858. — In consequence of the ad-
verse vote of the other night, in which you took so prominent and
distinguished a part, the government, as you know, has resigned ;
and I have been entrusted by the Queen with the difficult task,
which I have felt it my duty not to decline, of forming an ad-
ministration. In doing so, I am very desirous, if possible, of
obtaining the co-operation of men of eminence, who are not at
this moment fettered by other ties, and whose principles are not
incompatible with my own. Believing that you stand in this
position, it would afford me very great satisfaction if I could
obtain your valuable aid in forming my proposed cabinet; and if
I should be so fortunate as to do so, I am sure there would be on
all hands a sincere desire to consult your wishes, as far as possi-
ble, as to the distribution of offices. I would willingly include
Sidney Herbert in this offer; but I fear he is too intimately asso-
ciated with John Russell to make it possible for him to accept

Mr, Gladstone to Lord Derby,

10 Cheat George Street, Feb, 21, 1861. — I am very sensible of the
Importance of the vote taken on Friday; and I should deeply
Lament to see the House of Commons trampled on in consequence
3f that vote. The honour of the House is materially involved in
giving it full effect It would therefore be my first wish to aid,
Lf possible, in such a task ; and remembering the years when we
wrere colleagues, I may be permitted to say that there is nothing
Ln the fact of your being the head of a ministry, which would
a^vail to deter me from forming part of it

Among the first questions I have had to put to myself, in con-
sequence of the offer which you have conveyed in such friendly
and flattering terms, has been the question whether it would be
Ln my power by accepting it, either alone or in concert with others,
fco render you material service. After the long years during
^hich we have been separated, there would be various matters

VOL. I — 2p

678 THB SECOND DERBY QOYBBNHSNT

of public interest requiring to be noticed between ub; but the
question I have mentioned is a needful preliminary. Upon the
1858. best consideration which the moment allows, I think it plain that
alone, as I must be, I could not render you service worth your
having. The dissolution of last year excluded from parliament
men with whom I had sympathies ; and it in some degree affected
the position of those political friends with whom I have now for
many years been united through evil and (much more rarely)
through good report. Those who lament the rupture of old
traditions may well desire the reconstitution of a party ; but the
reconstitution of a party can only be effected, if at all, by the
return of the old influences to their places, and not by the junction
of an isolated person. The difficulty is even enhanced in my case
by the fact that in your party, reduced as it is at the present
moment in numbers, there is a small but active and not unim-
portant section who avowedly regard me as the representative of
the most dangerous ideas. I should thus, unfortunately, be to you
a source of weakness in the heart of your own adherents, while
I should bring you no party or group of friends to make up for
their defection or discontent.

For the reasons which I have thus stated or glanced at, my
reply to your letter must be in the negative.

I must, however, add that a government formed by you at this
time will, in my opinion, have strong claims upon me, and upon
any one situated as I am, for favourable presumptions, and in the
absence of conscientious difference on important questions, for
support. I have had an opportunity of seeing Lord Aberdeen
and Sidney Herbert ; and they fully concur in the sentiments I
have just expressed.

Mr. Gladstone had no close personal or political ties with
the Manchester men at this moment, but we may well
believe that a sagacious letter from Mr. Bright made its
mark upon his meditations: —

Mr. Bright to Mr. Gladstone.

Reform Club, Feb, 21, '58. — Coming down Park Lane just now,
I met a leading lawyer of Lord Derby's party, who will doubt-
less be in office with him if he succeeds in forming a govemment

LBTTBB FBOM MB. BRIGHT 579

He told me that Lord Derby and his friends were expecting to be
akble to induce you to join them.

Will you forgive me if I write to you on this matter ? I say
nothing but in the most friendly spirit, and I have some con-
fidence that you will not misinterpret what I am doing. Lord
Derby has only about one-third of the House of Commons with
him — and it is impossible by any management, or by any dissolu-
tion, to convert this minority into a majority. His minority in
the House is greater and more powerful than it is in the country —
and any appeal to the country, now or hereafter, must, I think,
leave him in no better position than that in which he now finds
himself. The whole liberal party in the country dislike him, and
they dislike his former leader in the Commons ; and notoriously
his own party in the country, and in the House, have not much
confidence in him. There is no party in the country to rally
round him, as Peel was supported in 1841. A Derby government
can only exist upon forbearance, and will only last till it is con-
venient for us and the whigs to overthrow it. Lord Palmerston
may give it his support for a time, but he can give it little more
than his own vote and speeches, for the liberal constituencies will
not forgive their members if they support it. If you join Lord
Derby, you link your fortunes with a constant minority, and with
a party in the country which is every day lessening in numbers
and in power. If you remain on our side of the House, you are
with the majority, and no government can be formed without you.
You have many friends there, and some who would grieve much
bo see you leave them — and I know nothing that can prevent your
being prime minister before you approach the age of every other
member of the House who has or can have any claim to that
high office.

If you agree rather with the men opposite than with those
among whom you have been sitting of late, I hftve nothing to say.
I am sure you will follow where * the right ' leads, if you only
discover it, and I am not hoping or wishing to keep you from the
right. I think I am not mistaken in the opinion I have formed
of the direction in which your views have for some years been
tending. You know well enough the direction in which the opinions
of the country are tending. The minority which invites you to join

680 THB SECOND DERBY GOVBBNMENT

ity if honesty must go or wish to go, in an opposite direction, and it
cannot therefore govern the country. Will you unite yourself with
1868. what must be, from the beginning, an inevitable failure ?

Don't be offended, if, by writing this, I seem to believe you will
join Lord Derby. I don't believe it — but I can imagine your
seeing the matter from a point of view very different to mine—
and I feel a strong wish just to say to you what is passing in mj
mind. You will not be the less able to decide on your proper
course. If I thought this letter would annoy you, I would not
send it. I think you will take it in the spirit in which it is
written. No one knows that I am writing it, and I write it from
no idea of personal advantage to myself, but with a view to yours,
and to the interests of the country. I may be mistaken, but think
I am not. Don't think it necessary to reply to this. I only ask
you to read it, and to forgive me the intrusion upon you — and
further to believe that I am yours, with much respect.

Mr. Gladstone to Mr. Bright.

10 Great George Street, Feb, 22, '68. — Your letter can only bear
one construction, that of an act of peculiar kindness which ought
not to be readily forgotten. For any one in whom I might be
interested I should earnestly desire, upon his entering public life,
that, if possible, he might with a good conscience end in the party
where he began, or else that he might have broad and definite
grounds for quitting it. When neither of these advantages
appears to be certainly within command, there remains a strong
and paramount consolation in seeking, as we best can, the truth
and the public interests ; and I think it a marked instance of
liberality, that you should give me credit for keeping this object
in my view.

My seeking, however, has not on the present occasion been very
difficult. The opinions, such as they are, that I hold on many
questions of government and administration are strongly held;
and although I set a value, and a high value, upon the power
which office gives, I earnestly hope never to be tempted by
its exterior allurements, unless they are accompanied with the
reasonable prospect of giving effect to some at least of those
opinions and with some adequate opening for public good On

UNEASINESS OF FRIENDS 581

the present occasion I have not seen such a prospect ; and before CHAP.
I received your letter yesterday afternoon I had made my choice. ^ ^^- ^

This ended the first scene of the short fifth act. The -*'• *^-
new government was wholly conservative.

n

Throughout the whole of this period, Mr. Gladstone's
political friends were uneasy about him. ^He writes and
says and does too much/ Graham had told Lord Aberdeen
(Dec. 1856), and a year and a half later the same correspond-
ent notices a restless anxiety for a change of position,
though at Gladstone's age and with his abilities he could
not wonder at it. Mr. Gladstone was now approaching fifty ;
Graham was nearer seventy than sixty ; and Aberdeen draw-
ing on to seventy-five. One of the most eminent of his friends
confessed that he was ^amazed at a man of Gladstone's high
moral sense of feeling being able to hear with Dizzy. I can
only account for it on the supposition, which I suppose to
be the true one, that personal dislike and distrust of Palmer-
ston is the one absorbing feeling with him. ... I see no
good ground for the violent personal prejudice which is the
sole ruling motive of Gladstone's and Graham's course —
especially when the alternative is such a man as Dizzy.'
Then comes some angry language about that enigmatic per-
sonage which at this cooling distance of time need not here
be transcribed. At the end of 1856 Lord Aberdeen told Mr.
Gladstone that his position in the House was 'very peculiar.'
*With an admitted superiority of character and intellectual
power above any other member, I fear that you do not really
possess the sympathy of the House at large, while you have
incurred the strong dislike of a considerable portion of Lord
Derby's followers.'

Things grew worse rather than better. Even friendly
journalists in the spring of 1858 wrote of him as ' the most
signal example that the present time affords of the man of
speculation misplaced and lost in the labyrinth of practical
politics.' They call him the chief orator and the weakest
man in the House of Commons. He has exhibited at every

582 THE 8BCOND DEBBY GOVERNMENT

stage traces of an unhappy incoherence which is making

him a mere bedouin of parliament, a noble being full of

1868. spirit and power, but not to be tamed into the ordinary ways

of civil life. His sympathies hover in hopeless inconsistency

between love for righteous national action, good government,

freedom, social and commercial reform, and a hankering after

a strong, unassailable executive in the old obstructive tory

sense. He protests against unfair dealing with the popular

voice in the Principalities on the Danube, but when the popular

voice on the Thames demands higher honours for General

Havelock he resists it with the doctrine that the executive

should be wholly free to distribute honours as it pleases. He

is loudly indignant against the supersession of parliament

by diplomacy, but when a motion is made directly pointing

to the rightful influence of the House over foreign affairs,

he neither speaks nor votes. Is it not clear beyond dispute

that his cannot be the will to direct, nor the wisdom to

guide the party of progress out of which the materials for

the government of this country will have to be chosen ? ^

In organs supposed to be inspired by Disraeli, Mr. Glad-
stone's fate is pronounced in different terms, but with equal
decision. In phrases that must surely have fallen from the
very lips of the oracle itself, the public was told that 'cerebral
natures, men of mere intellect without moral passion, are
quite unsuited for governing mankind.' The days of the
mere dialectician are over, and the rulers of Christendom
are no longer selected from the serfs of Aristotle. Without
the emotions that soar and thrill and enkindle, no man
can attain 'a grand moral vision.' When Mr. Gladstone
aims at philosophy, he only reaches casuistry. He reasons
like one of the sons of Ignatius Loyola. What their
Society is to the Jesuit, his own individualism is to Mr.
Gladstone. He supports his own interests as much from
intellectual zeal as from self-love. A shrewd observer is
quoted : ' looking on Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Sidney Herbert
sitting side by side, the former with his rather saturnine
face and straight black hair, and the latter eminently hand-
some, with his bright, cold smile and subtlety of aspect, I
1 See Spectator, May 8, 1858.

RENBWBD PBOPOSAL OF OFFICE 688

have often thought that I was beholding the Jesuit of the CHAP,
closet really devout, and the Jesuit of the world, ambitious, , ~^' ,
artful, and always on the watch for making his rapier ^^,.49,
thrusts.' Mr. Gladstone, in a word, is extremely eminent,
but strangely eccentric, ^a Simeon Stylites among the states-
men of his time.' ^

In May an important vacancy occurred in the ministerial
ranks by Lord EUenborough's resignation of the presidency
of the board of control. This became the occasion of a
renewed proposal to Mr. Gladstone. He tells the story in
a memorandum prepared (May 22) for submission to Aber-
deen and Graham, whom Lord Derby urged him to

consult.

•

Memorandwm by Mr. GHadatone mbmitted to Lord Aberdeen
and Sir James Q-raham. May 22, '68.

Secret. — Last week after Mr. CardwelPs notice but before the
debate began, Mr. Walpole, after previously sounding Sir William
Heathcote to a similar effect, called me aside in the lobby of the
House of Commons and inquired whether I could be induced to
take office. I replied that I thought that question put by him
of his own motion — as he had described it — was one that I could
hardly answer. It seemed plain, I said, that the actual situation
was one so entirely belonging to the government as it stood, that
they must plainly work through it xmchanged ; that the head of
the government was the only person who could make a proposal
or put a question about taking office in it ; I added, however, that
my general views were the same as in Febmaxy.

This morning I had a note from Walpole asking for an appoint-
ment ; and he called on me at four o'clock accordingly. He stated
that he came by authority of Lord Derby to offer me the board
of control or, if I preferred it, the colonial office. That he had
told Lord Derby I should, he thought, be likely to raise difficulties
on two points : first, the separation from those who have been my
friends in public life ; secondly, the leadership of the House of
Commons. I here interrupted him to say it must be in his
option to speak or to be silent on the latter of these subjects;
1 Press, April 7, 1868.

584 THfi SECOND DERBY GOVEBKMENT

BOOK it was one which had never been entertained or opened by me in
^^' connection with this subject, since the former of the two points

1858 ^^^ offered an absolute preliminary bar to the acceptance of office.
He, however, explained himself as follows, that Mr. Disraeli had
stated his willingness to surrender the leadership to Sir James
Graham, if he were disposed to join the government; but that
the expressions he had used in his speech of Thursday ^ (apparently
those with respect to parties in the House and to office), seemed to
put it beyond the right of the government to make any proposal
to him. He at the same time spoke in the highest terms not only
of the speech, but of the position in which he thought it placed
Sir James Graham ; and he left me to infer that there would have
been, but for the cause named, a desire to obtain his co-operation
as leader of the House of Commons. With respect to the proposal
as one the acceptance of which would separate me from my friends,
he hoped it was not so. It was one made to me alone, the
immediate vacancy being a single one ; but the spirit in which
it was made was a desire that it should be taken to signify the
wish of the government progressively to extend its basis, as far
as it could be effected compatibly with consistency in its opinions.
He added that judging from the past he hoped he might assume
that there was no active opposition to the government on the part
of my friends, naming Lord Aberdeen, Sir James Graham, and
the Duke of Newcastle.

I told him with respect to the leadership that I thought it
handsome on the part of Mr. Disraeli to offer to waive it on behalf
of Sir James Graham ; that it was a subject which did not enter
into my decision for the reason I had stated ; and I hinted also that
it was one on which I could never negotiate or make stipulations.
It was true, I said, I had no broad differences of principle from the
party opposite ; on the whole perhaps I differed more from Lord

1 1 wish to state that it is by the sitting on the opposite side of tbe
courtesy of hon. gentlemen that I House, and from recent kind corn-
occupy a seat on this (the ministerial) munications I have resumed thoM
side of the House, although I am no habita of friendly intercourse and
adherent of Her Majesty's govern- confidential communication with my
ment. By no engagement, express or noble friend (Lord John Russell)
implied, am I their supporter. On whichformerly existed between us.—
the contrary, my sympathies and May 20, 1868.
opinions are with the liberal party

RENEWED PROPOSAL OF OFFICE 585

Palmerston than from almost any one, and this was more on
account of his temper and views of public conduct, than of any
political opinions. Nay more, it would be hard to show broad j^^ ^9
differences of public principle between the government and the
bench opposite.

I said, however, that in my view the proposal which he had
made to me could not be entertained. I felt the personal mis-
fortune and public inconvenience of being thrown out of party
connection ; but a man at the bottom of the well must not try
to get out, however disagreeable his position, until a rope or a
ladder is put down to him. In this case my clear opinion was
that by joining the government I should shock the public senti-
ment and should make no essential, no important, change in their
position.

I expressed much regret that accidental causes had kept back
from my view at the critical moment the real extent of Lord
Derby's proposals in February ; that I answered him then as an
individual with respect to myself individually. ... I could not
separate from those with whom I had been acting all my life long,
in concert with whom all the habits of my mind and my views of
public affairs had been formed, to go into what might justly be
called a cabinet of strangers, since it contained no man to whom
I had ever been a colleague, with the single exception of Lord
Derby, and that twelve or fourteen years ago.

While I did not conceive that public feeling would or ought to
approve this separation, on the other hand I felt that my individual
junction would and could draw no material accession of strength
to the cabinet. He made the marked admission that if my
acceptance must be without the approval of friends, that must
undoubtedly be an element of great weight in the case. This
showed clearly that Lord Derby was looking to me in the first
place, and then to others beyond me. He did not, however, found
upon this any request, and he took my answer as an absolute
refusal. His tone was, I need not say, very cordial ; and I think
I have stated all that was material in the conversation, except
that he signified they were under the belief that Herbert enter-
tained strong personal feelings towards Disraeli.

Returning home, however, at seven this evening I found a note

586 THB SECOND DERBY 60YEBNMBNT

from Walpole expressing Lord Derby's wish in the following
words : * That before you finally decide on refusing to accept the
1868. offer he has made either of the colonies or of the India board he
wishes you would consult Sir James Graham and Lord Aberdeen.'
In order to meet this wish, I have put down the foregoing state-
ment.

Lord Aberdeen agreed with Mr. Gladstone that on the
whole the balance inclined to no.

Graham, in an admirable letter, truly worthy of a wise,
affectionate, and faithful friend, said, * My judgment is, on
this occasion, balanced like your own.' He ran through the
catalogue of Mr. Gladstone's most intimate political friends :
the result was that he stood alone. Fixed party ties and
active oflBcial duties would conduce to his present happiness
and his future fame. He might form an intimate alliance
with Lord Derby with perfect honour. His natural affinities
were strong, and his * honest liberal tendencies' would soon
leaven the whole lump and bring it into conformity with
the shape and body of the times. As for the leadership
in the Commons, Graham had once thought that for
Gladstone to sit on the treasury bench with Disraeli
for his leader would be humiliation and dishonour. Later
events had qualified this opinion. Of course, the abdica-
tion of Disraeli could not be made a condition precedent,
but the concession would somehow be made, and in the
Commons pre-eminence would be Gladstone's, be the con-
ditions what they might. In fine, time was wearing fast
away, Gladstone had reached the utmost vigour of his
powers, and present opportunities were not to be neglected
in vain expectation of better.

ni

Before this letter of Graham's arrived, an unexpected
thing happened, and Mr. Disraeli himself advanced to the
front of the stage. His communication, which opens and
closes without the usual epistolary forms, just as it is repro-
duced here, marks a curious episode, and sheds a strange
light on that perplexing figure : —

LBTTBR FROM MB. DI8BASU 687

Mr. Disraeli to Mr. Gladstone,
ijidentiai. ^ ^^^

think it of such paramount importance to the public interests,
t you should assume at this time a commanding position in

administration of affairs, that I feel it a solemn duty to lay
ore you some facts, that you may not decide under a mis-
)rehension.

)ur mutual relations have formed the great difficulty in accom-
jhing a result, which I have always anxiously desired,
jisten, without prejudice, to this brief narrative,
n 1850, when the balanced state of parties in the House of
nmons indicated the future, I endeavoured, through the medium
:he late Lord Londonderry, and for some time not without hope,
nduce Sir James Graham to accept the post of leader of the
servative party, which I thought would remove all difficulties.
Vhen he finally declined this office, I endeavoured to throw the
ae into your hands, and your conduct then, however uninten-
lal, assisted me in my views.

Che precipitate ministry of 1852 baffled all this. Could we have
tponed it another year, all might have been right.
"Nevertheless, notwithstanding my having been forced publicly

0 the chief place in the Commons, and all that occurred in con-
uence, I was still constant to my purpose, and in 1855 sug-
ted that the leadership of the House should be offered to Lord
imerston, entirely with the view of consulting your feelings and
ilitating your position.

5ome short time back, when the power of dissolution was certain,
i the consequences of it such as, in my opinion, would be highly
ourable to the conservative party, I again confidentially sought
James Graham, and implored him to avail himself of the
ourable conjuncture, accept the post of leader in the H. of C,

1 allow both of us to serve under him,

He was more than kind to me, and fully entered into the state
affairs, but he told me his course was run, and that he had not
ength or spirit for such an enterprise.

Thus you see, for more than eight years, instead of thrusting
self into the foremost place, I have been, at all times, actively
spared to make every sacrifice of self for the public good, which

588 THB SBCOKB DERBY GOVERNMSNT

I have ever thought identical with your accepting office in a con-
senrative government.
1858. D«n't you think the time has come when you might deign to
be magnanimous ?

Mr. Canning was superior to Lord Gastlereagh in capacity, in
acquirements, in eloquence, but he joined Lord C. when Lord C.
was Lord Liverpool's lieutenant, when the state of the tory party
rendered it necessary. That was an enduring, and, on the whole,
not an unsatisfactory connection, and it certainly terminated very
gloriously for Mr. Canning.

I may be removed from the scene, or I may wish to be removed
from the scene.

Every man performs his office, and there is a Power, greater
than ourselves, that disposes of all this.

The conjuncture is very critical, and if prudently yet boldly
managed, may rally this country. To be inactive now is, on your
part, a great responsibility. If you join Lord Derby's cabinet, you
will meet there some warm personal friends ; all its members are
your admirers. You may place me in neither category, but in
that, I assure you, you have ever been sadly mistaken. The
vacant post is, at this season, the most commanding in the common-
wealth; if it were not, whatever office you filled, your shining
qualities would always render you supreme ; and if party neces-
sities retain me formally in the chief post, the sincere and delicate
respect which I should always offer you, and the unbounded con-
fidence, which on my part, if you choose you could command, would
prevent your feeling my position as anything but a form.

Think of all this in a kindly spirit. These are hurried lines,
but they are heartfelt. I was in the country yesterday, and must
return there to-day for a county dinner. My direction is Langley
Park, Slough. But on Wednesday evening I shall be in town. —
B. Disraeli. Orosvenor Gate, May 25, 1858.

None of us, I believe, were ever able to persuade Mr.
Gladstone to do justice to Disraeli's novels, — the spirit of
whim in them, the ironic solemnity, the historical para-
doxes, the fantastic glitter of dubious gems, the grace of
high comedy, all in union with a social vision that often
pierced deep below the surface. In the comparative stiff-

LETTEB FBOM MB. DISBABLI 589

ness of Mr, Gladstone's reply on this occasion, I seem to hear chap.
the same accents of guarded reprobation : —

Mr. Gladstone to Mr. Disraeli.

11 Carlton House Terras, May 25, '58. — My deab Sir, — The
letter you have been so kind as to address to me will enable me,
I trust, to remove from your mind some impressions with which
you will not be sorry to part.

You have given me a narrative of your conduct since 1850 with
reference to your position as leader of your party. But I have
never thought your retention of that office matter of reproach
to you, and on Saturday last I acknowledged to Mr. Walpole
the handsomeness of your conduct in offering to resign it to Sir
James Graham.

You consider that the relations between yourself and me have
proved the main difficulty in the way of certain political arrange-
ments. Will you allow me to assure you that I have never in my
life taken a decision which turned upon those relations.

You assure me that I have ever been mistaken in failing to place
you among my friends or admirers. Again I pray you to let
me say that I have never known you penurious in admiration
towards any one who had the slightest claim to it, and that at no
period of my life, not even during the limited one when we were
in sharp political conflict, have I either felt any enmity towards
you, or believed that you felt any towards me.

At the present moment I am awaiting counsel which at Lord
Derby's wish I have sought. But the difficulties which he wishes
me to find means of overcoming, are broader than you may have
supposed. Were I at this time to join any government I could
not do it in virtue of party connections. I must consider then
what are the conditions which make harmonious and effective
cooperation in cabinet possible — how largely old habits enter into
them — what connections can be formed with public approval —
and what change would be requisite in the constitution of the
present government, in order to make any change worth a trial.

1 state these points fearlessly and without reserve, for you have
yourself well reminded me that there is a Power beyond us that
disposes of what we are and do, and I find the limits of choice in
public life to be very narrow. — I remain, etc.

IX.

^T. 49.

590 THE SECOND DERBY QOVEBNMENT

BOOK The next day Mr, Gladstone received Graham's letter
' y already described. The interpretation that he put upon it was

1868. tliat although Graham appeared to lean in favour of accept-
ance, ' yet the counsel was indecisive.' On ordinary construc-
tion, though the counsellor said that this was a case in which
only the man himself could decide, yet he also said that accept-
ance would be for the public good. * Your affirmative advice,
had it even been more positive, was not approval, nor was Lord
Aberdeen's. On the contrary it would have been like the
orders to Balaam, that he should go with the messengers of
Balak, when notwithstanding the command, the act was
recorded against him.' We may be quite sure that when a
man draws all these distinctions, between affirmative advice,
positive advice, approval, he is going to act without any
advice at all, as Mr. Gladstone was in so grave a case bound
to do. He declined to join.

Mr. 0-ladstane to Lord Derby.
Private.

11 C. H, Terrace^ May 26, '58. — I have this morning received
Sir James Graham's reply, and I have seen Lord Aberdeen before
and since. Their counsel has been given in no narrow or un-
friendly spirit. It is, however, indecisive, and leaves upon me
the responsibility which they would have been glad if it had been
in their power to remove. I must therefore adhere to the reply
which I gave to Mr. Walpole on Saturday ; for I have not seen,
and I do not see, a prospect of public advantage or of material
accession to your strength, from my entering yoxir government
single-handed.

Had it been in your power to raise fully the question whether
those who were formerly your colleagues, could again be brought
into political relation with you, I should individually have thought
it to be for the public good that, under the present circumstances
of the country, such a scheme should be considered deliberatelj
and in a favourable spirit. But I neither know that this is in
your power, nor can I feel very sanguine hopes that the obstacles
in the way of this proposal on the part of those whom it would
embrace, could be surmounted. Lord Aberdeen is the person
who could best give a dispassionate and weighty opinion on that

BBFUSAL 591

subject For me the question, confined as it is to myself, is a
narrow one, and I am bound to say that I arrive without doubt
at the result js,t. 49.

' I hope and trust,' said Graham, when he knew what Mr.
Gladstone had done, *that you have decided rightly; my
judgment inclined the other way. I should be sorry if your
letter to Lord Derby led him to make any more extended
proposal. It could not possibly succeed, as mattera now
stand ; and the abortive attempt would be injurious to him.
The reconstruction of the fossil remains of the old Peel party
is a hopeless task. No human power can now reanimate it
with the breath of life ; it is decomposed into atoms and will
be remembered only as a happy accident, while it lasted.' ^

IV

In one remarkable debate of this summer the solitary
statesman descended from his pillar. Now was the time of
the memorable scheme for the construction of the Suez
Canal, that first emanated from the French group of Saint
Simonian visionaries in the earlier half of the century.
Their dream had taken shape in the fertile and persevering
genius of Lesseps, and was at this time the battle-ground of
engineers, statesmen, and diplomatists in every country in
Europe. For fifteen years the British government had used
all their influence at Constantinople to prevent the Sultan
from sanctioning the project. In June a motion of protest
was made in the House of Conmions. Lord Palmerston
persisted that the scheme was the greatest bubble that ever
was imposed upon the credulity and simplicity of the people
of this country ; the public meetings on its behalf were got
up by a pack of foreign projectors ; traffic by the railway
would always beat traffic by steamer through the canal ; it
would be a step towards the dismemberment of the Turkish

1 ' I wish,' said Mr. Disraeli to Vitzthum reports a conversation

Bishop Wilberforce in 1862, *you with Mr. Disraeli in January 186S,

could have induced Gladstone to join of a different tenor : * We are at all

Lord Derby's government when Lord times ready/ he said, * to take back

EUenborough resigned in 1868. It this deserter, but only if he sur-

was not my fault that he did not : I renders unconditionally/ — Vitzthum,

almost went on my knees to him.' — i. p. 260.
Ufe, ill. p. 70.

592 THE SECOND DERBY GOVERNMENT

empire; it would tend to dismember our own empire by
opening a passage between the Mediterranean and the Indiaii
1868. ocean, which would be at the command of other nations and
not at ours. Away, then, with such a sacrifice of the interest
of Great Britain to philanthropic schemes and philosophic
reveries I So much for the sound practical man. Mr.
Gladstone followed. Don't let us, he said, have governments
and ex-governments coming down to instruct us here on
bubble schemes. As a commercial project, let the Saez
Canal stand or fall upon commercial grounds. With close
reasoning, he argued against the proposition that the canal
would tend to sever Turkey from Egypt. As to possible
danger to our own interests, was it not a canal that would
fall within the control of the strongest maritime power in
Europe? And what could that power be but ourselves?
Finally, what could be more unwise than to present ourselves
to the world as the opponents of a scheme on the face of it
beneficial to mankind, on no better ground than remote and
contingent danger to interests of our own, with the alleged
interest of Turkey merely thrust hypocritically in for the
purpose of justifying a policy purely narrow-minded and
wholly selfish? The majority against the motion was large, as
it was in the case of the seven cardinals against Galileo. Still
the canal was made, with some very considerable consequences
that were not foreseen either by those who favoured it or
those who mocked it as a bubble. M. de Lesseps wrote to
Mr. Gladstone from Constantinople that the clearness of his
speech had enabled him to use it with good effect in his
negotiations with the Porte. 'Your eloquent words, the
authority of your name, and the consideration that attaches
to your character, have already contributed much and will
contribute more still to hinder the darkening and complica-
tion of a question of itself perfectly clear and simple, and to
avoid the troubling of the relations between two countries
of which it is the natural mission to hold aloft together the
flag of modern civilisation.'

Mr. Gladstone took an active interest in the various
measures — some of them extremely singular — proposed by
Mr. Disraeli for the transfer of the government of India from

SUEZ CANAL 593

the Company to the crown. Writing early in the year to
Sir James Graham he argued that their object should be
steadily and vigorously to resist all attempts at creating a ^t!48.
monster military and civil patronage, and to insLst upon a
real check on the Indian minister. He had much conversa-
tion with Mr. Bright — not then an intimate acquaintance —
on the difficulty of the problem to govern a people by a
people. The two agreed strongly as to one prominent possi-
bility of mischief: they both disti*usted the discretion con-
fided to the Indian minister in the use of the Indian army.
Mr. Gladstone set a mark upon the bill by carrying a clause
to provide that the Indian army should not be employed
beyond the frontiers of India without the permission of
parliament. This clause he privately hoped would 'afford
a standing-ground from which a control might be exercised
on future Palmerstons.'

VOL. I — 2Q

CHAPTER X

THE IONIAN ISLANDS

{1868-1859)

Thb world is now taking an immense interest in Greek affairs, and
does not seem to know why. But there are very good reasons for
it Greece is a centre of life, and the only possible centre for the
ArchipelagOf and its immediate neighbourhood. But it is Tain to
think of it as a centre from which light and warmth can proceed,
until it has attained to a tolerable organisation, political and
economical. I believe in the capacity of the people to receive the
boon. — Gladstone (1862).

At the beginning of October, while on a visit to Lord
Aberdeen at Haddo, Mr. Gladstone was amazed by a letter
1868. from the secretary of state for the colonies — one of the
two famous writers of romance then in Lord Derby's
cabinet — which opened to him the question of undertaking
a special mission to the Ionian islands. This, said Bulwer
Lytton, would be to render to the crown a service that no
other could do so well, and that might not inharmoniously
blend with his general fame as scholar and statesman. * To
reconcile a race that speaks the Greek language to the
science of practical liberty seemed to me a task that
might be a noble episode in your career.' The origin of an
invitation so singular is explained by Phillimore : —

November 2nd, 1858. — Lord Carnarvon (then under-secretary
at the colonial office) sent an earnest letter to me to come to
the C. 0. and advise with Rogers and himself as to drawing the
commission. I met Bulwer Lytton there, overflowing with civility.
The offer to Gladstone had arisen as I expected from Lord C,
and he had told B. L. the conversation which he (C.) and I had
together in the siunmer, in which I told Lord C. that I thought
Gladstone would accept a mission extraordinary to Naplea . . .

694

PB0P08AL FBOM BTJLWBR 595

I risked without authority from G, this communication. Lord
C. bore it in mind, and from this suggestion of mine sprang in
fact this offer. So Lord C. said to me.

Lord Malmesbury very sensibly observed that to send
Mr. Gladstone to Naples was out of the question, in view
of his famous letters to Lord Aberdeen. To the new pro-
posal Mr. Gladstone replied that his first impulse on any
call from a minister of the crown to see him on public
business, would be to place himself at the minister's disposal.
The interview did not occur for a week or two. Papers
were sent from the colonial office to Ha warden, long letters
followed from the secretary of state, and Mr. Gladstone
took time to consider. The constitution of the Ionian
islands had long been working uneasily, and what the
colonial secretary invited him to undertake was an inquiry
on the spot into our relations there, and into long-standing
embarrassments that seemed to be rapidly coming to a
head. Sir John Young, then lord high commissioner of
the Ionian islands, had been with him at Eton and at
Oxford, besides being a Peelite colleague in parliament,
and Mr. Gladstone was not inclined to be the instru-
ment of indicating disparagement of his friend. Then,
moreover, he was in favour of *a very liberal policy'
in regard to the Ionian islands, and possibly the cabinet
did not agree to a very liberal policy. As for personal
interest and convenience, he was not disposed to raise any
difficulty in such a case.

The Peelite colleagues whose advice he sought were all,
with the single exception of the Duke of Newcastle, more
or less unconditionally adverse. Lord Aberdeen (October 8)
admitted that Mr. Gladstone's name, acquirements, and
conciliatory character might operate powerfully on the
lonians; still many of them were false and artful, and
the best of them little better than children. ' It is clear,'
he said, Hhat Bulwer has sought to allure you with vague
declarations and the attractions of Homeric propensities. . . .
I doubt if Homer will be a cheval de bataille sufficiently
strong to carry you safely through the intricacies of this
enterprise.' The sagacious Graham also warned him that

JBt.40.

596 THB IONIAN ISLANDS

little credit would be gained by success, while failure would
be attended by serious inconveniences : in any case to quell
lg5e_ *a storm in a teapot' was no occupation worthy of his
powers and position. Sidney Herbert was strong that
governments were getting more and more into the bad
habit of delegating their own business to other people ; he
doubted success, and expressed his hearty wish that we
could be quit of the protectorate altogether, and could
hand the islands bodily over to Greece, to which by blood,
language, religion, and geography they belonged.

I have said that these adverse views were almost un-
qualified, and such qualification as existed was rather
remarkable. 'The only part of the aflEair I should regard
with real pleasure,' wrote Lord Aberdeen, 'would be the
means it might afford you of drawing closer to the govern-
ment, and of naturally establishing yourself in a more
suitable position ; for in spite of Homer and Ulysses, your
Ionian work will by no means be tanti in itself.' Graham
took the same point: 'An approximation to the gOTcm-
ment may be fairly sought or admitted by you. But this
should take place on higher grounds.' Thus, though he
was now in fact unconsciously on the eve of his formal
entry into a liberal cabinet, expectations still survived that
he might re-join his old party.

As might have been expected, the wanderings of Ulysses
and the geography of Homer prevailed in Mr. Gladstone's
mind over the counsels of parliamentary Nestors. Besides
the ancient heroes, there was the fascination of the orthodox
church, so peculiar and so irresistible for the anglican school
to which Mr. Gladstone belonged. Nor must we leave out
of account the passion for public business so often allied
with the student's temperament ; the desire of the politician
out of work for something definite to do; Mr. Gladstone's
keen relish at all times for any foreign travel that came
in his way ; finally, and perhaps strongest of all, the fact
that his wife's health had been much shaken by the death
of her sister, Lady Lyttelton, and the doctors were advising
change of scene, novel interests, and a southern cUmate.
His decision was very early a foregone conclusion. So his

MISSION ACCEPTED 597

doubting friends could only wish him good fortune. Graham CHAP,
said, ' If your hand be destined to lay the foundation of ^ ' j
a Greek empire on the ruins of the Ottoman, no hand ^^t. 49.
can be more worthy, no work more glorious. Mecidiva
manu posuissem Pergama was a noble aspiration;^ with
you it may be realised.'

He hastened to enlist the services as secretary to his
commission of Mr. Lacaita, whose friendship he had first
made seven years before, as we have seen, amid the sinister
tribunals and squalid dungeons of Naples. For dealings
with the Greco-Italian population of the islands he seemed
the very man. *As regards Greek,' Mr. Gladstone wrote
to him, *you are one of the few persons to whom one gives
credit for knowing everything, and I assumed on this ground
that you had a knowledge of ancient Greek, such as would
enable you easily to acquire the kind of acquaintance with
the modern form, such as is, I presume, desirable. That
is my own predicament; with the additional disadvantage
of our barbarous English pronunciation.' Accompanied by
Mrs. Gladstone and their eldest daughter, and with Mr.
Arthur Gordon, the son of Lord Aberdeen, and now, after
long service to the state, known as Lord Stanmore, for
private secretary, Mr. Gladstone left England on November
8, 1858, and he returned to it on the 8th of March 1859.

II
The Ionian case was this. By a treaty made at Paris in
November 1815, between Great Britain, Russia, Austria,
and Prussia, the seven islands — scattered along the coast
from Epiros to the extreme south of the Morea — were
constituted into a single free and independent state under
the name of the United States of the Ionian Islands,
and this state was placed under the immediate and
exclusive protection of Great Britain. The Powers only
thought of keeping the islands out of more dubious
hands, and cared little or not at all about conferring any
advantage upon either us or the lonians. The States
were to regulate their own internal organisation, and Great
1 Virg. Aen. iv. 344.

598 THK BQKIAm

Britain was *• to employ a paxtknilar BoSxoisai^ ^d& ncmi »
the legislation and general adininisiiniufiii of
23^ and was to appoint a lord higii eoimriHwiaiMBr lao

with all necessary powers and xndmritHB. Tbf: I*]^ of
Wellington foretold that it would prove *a
profitable job,' and so in tnnii it did. A
charter in 1817 formed a system of ^vtsnimem lias, kkb
became despotic enough to satisfy llesfiBimiBL hrmsftH Tk
scheme has been justly described jib a mnguiasnT dem
piece of work, appearing to gire xancdi wiiile is iaa sir-
ing nothing at all. It contained a ^ueonnis ooDficciGa of
chapters, sections, and articles ispoEuig en0ii|^ in ikir
outer aspect, but in actual opeEadan 'die wiiok cf da
reducible to a single clause enabling tb^ i^i^ iiiiimaiMiim
to do whatever he pleased.

This rough but not ill-natured detpcf^sm lasted &r fitde
more than thirty years, and then in ISISU imdBr die TTiflawirf
of the great upheaval of 1848, it was ciuEi^g>Dd into a mtem
of more popular and democratic build. The dd YeoroMn^
when for a couple of centuries they were Tnantwrs in this
region, laid it down that the islandecs amsi be kepC with
their teeth drawn and their claws clipped. Bread and the
stick, said Father Paul, that is what tbcy wanL. This riew
prevailed at the colonial office, and irtiTrms c£ Fadter
Paul Sarpi's sort, incongruously combined wiii a paper eoo-
stitution, worked as ill as possible. Mr. Gladsrtone alwiys
applied to the new system of 1849 Chaiies Buller's figure, of
first lighting the fire and then stopping up the chimnej.
The stick may be wholesome, and local sdi-^remment miy
be wholesome, but in combination or rapid alternation they
are apt to work nothing but mischief either in Ionian or any
other islands. Sir Charles Napier — the Xapier of Scinde —
who had been Resident in Cephalonia thirty years before,
in Byron's closing days, describes the richer classes as hvel?
and agreeable ; the women as having both beaaty and wiu
but of little education ; the poor as haidy« industrious, and
intelligent — all full of pleasant humour and Tivacity, with
a striking resemblance, says Napier, to his countrymeiu
the Irish. The upper class was mainly Italian in origin.

THE IONIAN GA8B 599

and willingly threw all the responsibility for affairs on the
British government. The official class, more numerous in
proportion to population than in any country in Europe, ^^^'49,
scrambled for the petty salaries of paltry posts allotted by
popular election. Since 1849 they had increased by twenty-
five per cent., and were now one in a hundred of the inhabit-
ants. The clergy in a passive way took part with the dema-
gogues. Men of ability and dense were not wanting, but
being unorganised, discouraged, and saturated with distrust,
they made no effort to stem the jobbery, corruption, waste,
going on around them. Roads, piers, aqueducts, and other
monuments of the British protectorate reared before 1849,
were falling to pieces. Taxes were indifferently collected.
Transgressors of local law went unpunished. In ten years
the deficit in the revenue had amounted to nearly £100,000,
or two-thirds of a year's income. The cultivators of the soil
figured in official reports as naturally well affected, and only
wishing to grow their currants and their olives in peace and
quietness. But they were extremely poor, and they were
ignorant and superstitious, and being all these things it was
inevitable that they should nurse discontent with their govern-
ment. Whoever wanted their votes knew that the way to
get them was to denounce the Englishman as erepoSo^o^i xal
(dvo^^ heretic, alien, and tyrant. There was a senate of six
members, chosen by the high commissioner from the as-
sembly. The forty-two members of the assembly met below
galleries that held a thousand persons, and nothing made
their seats and salaries so safe as round declamations from
the floor to the audience above, on the greatness of the
Hellenic race and the need for union with the Greek kingdom.
The municipal officer in charge of education used to set as
a copy for the children, a prayer that panhellenic concord
might drive the Turks out of Greece and the English out
of the seven islands.

Cephalonia exceeded the rest of the group both in popula-
tion and in vehemence of character, while Zante came first
of all in the industry and liveliness of its people.^ These

1 See Sir C. Napier's The Colonies : treating of their value generally and
of the Ionian Island* in particular.

600 THE IONIAN ISLANDS

two islands were the main scene and source of difficoltj.
In Cephalonia nine yeai-s before the date with which we
1868. ^^6 ^ow dealing, an agrarian rising had occurred more
like a bad whiteboy outrage than a national rebellioo,
and it was suppressed with cruel rigour by the high
commissioner of the day. Twenty-two people had been
hanged, three hundred or more had been flogged, most of
them without any species of judicial investigation. The
fire-raisings and destruction of houses and vineyards were
of a fierce brutality to match. These Ionian atrocities were
the proceedings with which Prince Schwarzenberg had
taunted Lord Aberdeen by way of rejoinder to Mr. Gladstone's
letters on barbarous misgovernment in Naples, and the feel-
ings that they had roused were still smouldering. Half a
dozen newspapers existed, all of them vehemently and irreo-
oncilably unionist, though all controlled by members of the
legislative assembly who had taken an oath at the beginning
of each parliament to respect and maintain the constitutional
rights of the protecting sovereign. The liberty of unlicensed
printing, however, had been subject to a pretty stringent
check. By virtue of what was styled a power of high police,
the lord high commissioner was able at his own will and
pleasure to tear away from home, occupation, and livelihood
anybody that he chose, and the high police found its com-
monest objects in the editors of newspapers. An obnoxious
leading article was not infrequently followed by deportation
to some small and barren rock, inhabited by a handful of
fishermen. Not Cherubim and Seraphim, said Mr. Glad-
stone, could work such a system. A British corporal with
all the patronage in his hands, said another observer, would
get on better than the greatest and wisest statesman since
Pericles, if he had not the patronage. It was little wonder
that a distracted lord high commissioner, to adopt the
similes of the florid secretary of state, should one day send
home a picture like Salvator's Massacre of the Innocents,
or Michel Angelo's Last Judgment, and the next day recall
the swains of Albano at repose in the landscapes of Claude ;
should one day advise his chiefs to wash their hands c'
the lonians, and on the morrow should hint that perhaps

THE 8TOI.BN DESPATCH 601

the best thing would be by a bold coup d'Stat to sweep CHAP,
away the constitution.^ ^ ^' j

Immediately after Mr, Gladstone had started, what the
secretary of state described as the most seiious misfortune
conceivable happened. A despatch was stolen from the pigeon-
lioles of the colonial office, and a morning paper printed it.
It had been written home some eighteen months before by
Sir John Young, and in it he advised his government, with
the assent of the contracting powers, to hand over either the
whole of the seven islands to Greece, or else at least the five
southern islands, while transforming Corfu and its little satel-
lite of Paxo into a British colony. It was true that a few
days later he had written a private letter, wholly withdrawing
this advice and substituting for it the exact opposite, the sup-
pression namely of such freedom as the islanders possessed.
This second fact the public did not know, nor would the
knowledge of it have made any difference. The published
despatch stood on record, and say what they would, the
startling impression could not be effaced. Well might
Lytton call it an inconceivable misfortune. It made Austria
uneasy, it perturbed France, and it irritated Russia, all of
them seeing in Mr. Gladstone's mission a first step towards
the policy recommended in the despatch. In the breasts of
the islanders it kindled intense excitement, and diversified
a chronic disorder by a sharp access of fever. It made
Young's position desperate, though he was slow to see it,
and practically it brought the business of the high com-
missioner extraordinary to nought before it had even begun.

He learned the disaster, for disaster it was, at Vienna, and
appears to have faced it with the same rigorous firmness
and self-command that some of us have beheld at untoward

^ Parliamentary Papers, relative to loniennea. Lettre k Lord John Rus-
tic mission of the Right Hon, W. E. sell, par Fran9ois Lenonnant. (Paris,
^adstoneto the Ionian Islandsin\^li%, Amyot, 1861.) The Ionian Islands
Preaented in 1861. Finlay's History in relation to Greece. By John Dunn
of Greece, vii. p. 305, etc. Letters by Gardner, Esqr., 1869. Four years in
Lord Charles Fitzroy, etc., showing the Ionian Islands. By Whittingham.
thM anomalous political and financial Pamphlet by S. G. Potter, D.D. See
position of the Ionian Islands. (Ridg- also Gleanings, iv. p. 287.
way, 1850.) Le Gouvernement des lies

602 THB lOKIAN ISLANDS

moments long after. The ambassador told him that be
ought to see the Austrian minister. With Count Buol he
186S. ^^^ * ^^^S interview accordingly, and assured him that his
mission had no concern with any question of Ionian annexa-
tion whether partial or total. Count Buol on his part
disclaimed all aggressive tendencies in respect of Turkey,
and stated emphatically that the views and conduct of
Austria in her Eastern policy were in the strictest sense
conservative.

Embarking at Trieste on the warship Terrible^ Nov. 21,
and after a delightful voyage down the Adriatic, five days
after leaving Vienna (Nov. 24th) Mr. Gladstone found him-
self at Corfu — the famous island of which he had read
such memorable things in Thucydides and XenophoD, the
harbour where the Athenians had fitted out the expedition
to Syracuse, so disastrous to Greek democracy; where the
young Octavian had rallied his fleet before the battle of
Actium, so critical for the foundation of the empire of the
CsBsars; and whence Don John had sallied forth for tbe
victory of Lepanto, so fatal to the conquering might of
the Ottoman Turks. It was from Corfu that the brothers
Bandiera had started on their tragic enterprise for the
deliverance of Italy fourteen years before. Mr. Gladstone
landed under a salute of seventeen guns, and was received
with all ceremony and honour by the lord high commissioner
and his ofiicers.

He was not long in discovering what mischief the stolen
despatch had done, and may well have suspected from the firet
in his inner mind that his efforts to undo it would bear
little fruit. The morning after his arrival the ten members
for Corfu came to him in a body with a petition to the
Queen denouncing the plan of making their island a British
colony, and praying for union with Greece. The munici-
pality followed suit in the evening. The whole sequel was
in keeping. Mr. Gladstone with Young's approval made a
speech to the senate, in which he threw over the despatch,
severed his mission wholly from any purpose or object in the
way of annexation, and dwelt much upon a circular addressed
by the foreign office in London to all its ministers abroad

ABRIYAL AT OOBFU 603

disclaiming any designs of that kind. He held levees, he
called upon the archbishop, he received senators and repre-
sentatives, and everywhere he held the same emphatic iBT.49.
language. He soon saw enough to convince him of the
harm done to British credit and influence by the severities
in Cephalonia; by the small regard and frequent contempt
shown by many Englishmen for the religion of the people
for whose government they were responsible ; by the dia-
tribes in the London press against the lonians as brigands,
pirates, and barbarians; and by the absence in high com-
missioners and others ^ of tact, good sense, and good feeling
in the sense in which it is least common in England, the
sense namely in which it includes a disposition to enter into
and up to a certain point sympathise with those who differ
with us in race, language, and creed.' Perhaps his penetrat-
ing oye early discovered to him that forty years of bad rule
had so embittered feeling, that even without the stolen
despatch, he had little chance.

He made a cruise round the islands. His visit shook
him a good deal with respect to two of the points — Corfu
and Ithaca — on which it has been customary to dwell as
proving Homer's precise local knowledge. The rain poured
in torrents for most of the time, but it cleared up for a space
to reveal the loveliness of Ithaca. In the island of Ulysses
and Penelope he danced at a ball given in his honour. In
Cephalonia he was received by a tumultuous mob of a
thousand persons, whom neither the drenching rains nor
the unexpected manner of his approach across the hills
could baffle. They greeted him with incessant cries for
union with Greece, thrust disaffected papers into his
carriage, and here and there indulged in cries of kcLto) ^
irpoaraala^ down with the protectorate, down with the
tyranny of fifty years. This exceptional disrespect he
ascribed to what he leniently called the history of Cepha-
lonia, meaning the savage dose of martial law nine years
before. He justly took it for a marked symbol of the state
of excitement at which under various influences the popular
mind had arrived. Age and infirmity prevented the arch-
bishop from coming to offer his respects, so after his levee

604 THE IONIAN ISLANDS

Mr. Gladstone with his suite repaired to the archbishop.
' We found him,' says Mr. Gordon, ' seated on a sofa dressed
1868. ill liis most gorgeous robes of gold and purple, over which
flowed down a long white beard. . . . Behind him stood a
little court of black-robed, black-bearded, black-capped, dark-
faced priests. He is eighty-six years old, and his maimers
and appearance were dignified in the extreme. Speaking
slowly and distinctly he began to tell Gladstone that the
sole wish of Cephalonia was to be united to Greece, and
there was something very exciting and affecting in the
tremulous tones of the old man saying over and over again,
^^questa infelice isola^ que%ta isola infelice^^^ as the tears
streamed down his cheeks and long silvery beard. It was
like a scene in a play.'

At Zante (Dec. 16), the surface was smoother. A concourse
of several thousands awaited him; Greek flags were flying
on all sides in the strong morning sea-breeze ; the town
bands played Greek national tunes ; the bells were all ring-
ing ; the harbour was covered with boats full of gaily dressed
people; and the air resounded with loud shouts (rjrm o
<l>i\d\\rjv rXdSoTcov, ^ifrco 17 ewoai^ fieri. t^9 ^'EXXaSo?, Long
live Gladstone the Philhellene, hurrah for union with Greece.

Every room and passage in the residency, Mr. Gordon writes to

Lord Aberdeen, was already thronged Upstairs the excitement

was great, and as soon as Gladstone had taken his place, in swept
Gerasimus the bishop (followed by scores of swarthy priests in
their picturesque black robes) and tendered to him the petition
for union. But before he could deliver it, Gladstone stopped him
and addressed to him and to the assembly a speech in excellent
Italian. Never did I hear his beautiful voice ring out more clear
or more thrillingly than when he said, * Ecco V inganno,' ... It
was a scene not to be forgotten. The priests, with eye and hand
and gesture, expressed in lively pantomime to each other the effect
produced by each sentence, in what we should think a most
exaggerated way, like a chorus on the stage, but the effect was
most picturesque.

He attended a banquet one night, went to the theatre the
next, where he was greeted with lusty zetos, and at mid*

VISITS ATHENS 606

night embarked on the Terrible on his way to Athens. His
stay in the immortal city only lasted for three or four days,
and I find no record of his impressions. They were probably jet!49.
those of most travellers educated enough to feel the spell of
the Violet Crown. Illusions as to the eternal summer with
which poets have blessed the Isles of Greece vanished as
they found deep snow in the streets, icicles on the Acropolis,
and snow-balling in the Parthenon. He had a reception
only a shade less cordial than if he were Demosthenes come
back. He dined with King Otho, and went to a Te Deum in
honour of the Queen's birthday. Finlay, the learned man
who had more of the true spirit of history than most his-
torians then alive, took him to a meeting of the legislature ;
he beheld some of the survivors of the war of independence,
and made friends with one valiant lover of freedom, the
veteran General Church. Though, thanks to the generosity
of an Englishman, they had a university of their own at
Corfu, the lonians preferred to send their sons to Athens, and
the Athenian students immediately presented a memorial
to Mr. Gladstone with the usual prayer for union with the
Hellenic kingdom. On the special object of his visit, he
came away from Athens with the impression that opinion
in Greece was much divided on the question of immediate
union with the Ionian islands. In truth his position had
been a false one. Everybody was profoundly deferential, but
nobody was quite sure whether he had come to pave the way
for union, or to invite the Athenian government to check it,
and when Rangab^, the foreign minister, found him without
credentials or instructions, and staved off all discussion, Mr.
Gladstone must have felt that though he had seen one of the
two or three most wondrous historic sites on the globe, that
was all.

Of a jaunt to wilder scenes a letter of Mr. Arthur Gordon's
gives a pleasant glimpse : —

You will like an account of an expedition the whole party made
yesterday to Albania to pay a visit to an old lady, a great pro-
prietress, who lives in a large ruinous castle at a place called
Filates. She is about the greatest personage in these regions, and

606 THJB IONIAN ISLANDS

it was thought that the lord high commissioner should pay her
a visit if he wished to see Albania. ... It was a lovely morn-
2858. ^Ej ^^^ breakfast was laid on the balcony of the private apart-
ments looking over the garden and commanding the loveliest of
views across the strait. Gladstone was in the highest spirits, fall
of talk and romping boyishly. After breakfast the L. H. C.'s barge
and the cutters of the Terrible conveyed us on board the pretty
little gunboat.

We reached Sayada in about two hours, and were received on
landing by the governor of the province, who had ridden down
from Filates to meet us. We went to the house of the English
vice-consul, whilst the long train of horses was preparing to start,
but after a few minutes' stay there Gladstone became irrepressibly
restless, and insisted on setting off to walk — I of course walked
too. The old steward also went with us, and a guard of eight
white-kilted palikari on foot. The rest of the party rode, and
from a slight hill which we soon reached, it was very pretty to
look back at the long procession starting from Sayada and pro-
ceeding along the narrow causeway running parallel to our path,
the figures silhouetted against the sea. Filates is about 12 miles
from Sayada, perhaps more, the path is rugged and mountainous,
and commands some fine views. Our palikari guards fired off
their long Afghan-looking guns in every direction, greatly to
Gladstone's annoyance, but there was no stopping them.

Scouts on the hills gave warning of our approach, and at the
entrance to Filates we were met by the whole population. First
the Valideh's retainers, then the elders, then the moolahs in their
great green turbans, the Christian community, and finally, on the
top of the hill, the Valideh's little grandson, gorgeously dressed,
and attended by his tutor and a number of black slaves. The
little boy salaamed to Gladstone with much grace and self-
possession, and then conducted us to the castle, in front of which
all the townsfolk who were not engaged in receiving us were
congregated in picturesque groups on the smooth grassy lawns
and under the great plane trees. The castle is a large ruinous
enclosure of walls and towers, with buildings of all sorts and ages
within. The Valideh herself, attired in green silk and a fur
pelisse, her train held by two negro female slaves, received us at

IN ALBANIA 607

Uie bead ot the stairs and ushered us into a large room with a
divan round three sides of it. Sweetmeats and water and pipes
■nd coffee were brought as usual^ some of the cups and their
filigree stands very handsome. We went out to see the town,
preceded by a tall black slave in a gorgeous blue velvet jacket,
with a great silver stick in his hand. Under his guidance we
Tisited the khans, the bazaar, and the mosque ; not only were we
allowed to enter the mosque with our shoes on, but on Gladstone
expressing a wish to hear the call to prayer, the muezzin was
sent up to the top of the minaret to call the azan two hours before
the proper time. The sight of the green-turbaned imam crying
the azan for a Frank was most singular, and the endless variety
of costume displayed by the crowds who thronged the verandahs
which surround the mosque was most pictui'esque. The gateway
of the castle too was a picturesque scene. Retainers and guards,
slaves and soldiers, and even women, were lounging about, and
a beautiful tame little ^t roedeer played with the pretty children
in bright coloured dresses, clustering under the cavernous archway.
We had dinner in another large room. I counted thirty-two
dishes, or I may say courses, for each dish at a Turkish dinner is
brought in separately, and it is rude not to eat of all ! The most
picturesque part of the dinner, and most unusual, was the way the
room was lighted. Eight tall, grand Albanians stood like statues
behind us, each holding a candle. It reminded me of the torch-
bearers who won the laird his bet in the Legend of Montrose,

After dinner there was a long and somewhat tedious interval
of smoking and story-telling in the dark, and we called upon
Lacaita to recite Italian poetry, which he did with much effect,
pouring out sonnet after sonnet of Petrarch, including that which
my father thinks the most beautiful in the Italian language, that
which has in it the * Campeggiar del angel ico rise' This showed
me how easy it was to fall into the habits of a country. Glad-
stone is as unoriental as any man well can be, yet his calling on
Lacaita to recite was really just the same thing that every Pasha
does after dinner, when he orders his tale-teller to repeat a story.
The ladies meanwhile were packed off to the harem for the
night. Lady Bowen acting as their interpreter. My L. H. C, his
two secretaries, his three aide^e-camps. Captains Blomfield and

608 THE IONIAN ISLANDS

Clanricarde, and the vice-consul, all slept in the same room,
and that not a large one, and we were packed tight on the floor,
1868. ^uider quilts of Brusa silk and gold, tucked up round us bj
gorgeous Albanians. Gladstone amused himself with speculadng
whether or no we were in contravention of the provisions of Lord
Shaftesbury's lodging-housp act !

After a month of cloudless sunshine it took it into its head to
rain this night of all nights in the year, and rain as it only does in
these regions. Gladstone and I walked down again despite of
wind, rain, and mud, and our palikari guard — to keep up their
spirits, I suppose — chanted wild choruses all the way. We
nearly got stuck altogether in the muddy fiat near Sayada,
and got on board the Osprey wet through, my hands so chilled
I could hardly steer the boat Of course we had far outwalked
the riding party, so we had to wait. What a breakfast we ate !
that is those of us who could eat, for the passage was rough
and Gladstone and the ladies fiat on their backs and very sorry
for themselves.

Mr. Gladstone's comment in his diary is brief: 'The
whole impression is saddening; it is all indolence, decay,
stagnation ; the image of God seems as if it were nowhere.
But there is much of wild and picturesque.' The English
in the island, both civil and military, adopted the tone
of unfriendly journals in London, and the garrison went
so far as not even to invite Mr. Gladstone to mess, a
compliment never omitted before. The lonians, on the
other hand, like people in most other badly governed
countries did not show in the noblest colours. There
were petitions, letters, memorials, as to which Mr. Glad-
stone mildly notes that he has to 'lament a spirit of
exaggeration and obvious errors of fact.' There was a
stream of demands from hosts of Spiridiones, Christodulos,
Euphrosunes, for government employ, and the memorial
survives, attested by bishop and clergy, of a man with a
daughter to marry, who being too poor to find a dowry
' had decided on reverting to your Excellency's well-known
philhellenism, and with tears in his eyes besought tl)at
your Excellency,' et cetera.

0OBBB8PONDEN0E WITH BULWBB 609

One incident was much disliked at home, as having the
fearsome flavour of the Puseyite. It had been customary at
levees for the lord high commissioner to bow to everybody, jet!49.
but also to shake hands with the bishops and sundry other
high persons. Mr. Gladstone stooped and actually kissed the
bishop's hand. Sir Edward Lytton inquired if the story were
true, as a question might be asked in parliament. It is
true, said Mr. Gladstone (February 7), but *I hope Sir E. L.
will not in his consideration for me entangle himself in
such a matter, but as he knows nothing now, will continue
to know nothing, and will say that the subject did not
enter into his instructions, and that he presumes I shall
be at home in two or three more weeks to answer for all
my misdeeds.' ^

The secretary of state and his potent emissary — the
radical who had turned tory and the tory who was on
the verge of formally turning liberal — got on excellently
together. Though he was not exact in business, the
minister's despatches and letters show shrewdness, good
sense, and right feeling, with a copious garnish of flummery.
Demagogy, he says to Mr. Gladstone, will continue to be
a trade and the most fascinating of all trades, because
animated by personal vanity, and its venality disguised
even to the demagogue himself by the love of country,
by which it may be really accompanied. The Ionian con-
stitution should certainly be mended, for *my convictions
tell me that there is nothing so impracticable as the Unreal.'
He comforts his commissioner by the reminder that a popula-
tion after all has one great human heart, and a great human
heart is that which chiefly exalts the Man of Genius over
the mere Man of Talent, so that when a Man of Genius
with practical experience of the principles of sound govern-
ment comes face to face with a people whose interest it
is to be governed well, the chances are that they will
understand each other.

1 This and his alleged attendance Mr. Gladstone was subjected to some

at mass, and compliance with sundry rude baiting from doctors of divinity

other rites, were often heard of in and others,
later times, and even so late as 1879

YOL. 1 — 2r

610 THS IONIAN ISLANDS

IV

Mr. Gladstone applied himself with the utmost gfravity
to the affaii-s of a pygmy state with a total population
l^ under 250,000. His imagination did its work. While you
seem, he said most truly, to be dealing only with a few
specks scarcely visible on the map of Europe, you are
engaged in solving a problem as delicate and difficult as
if it arose on a far more conspicuous stage. The people
he found to be eminently gifted by nature with that
subtlety which is apt to degenerate into sophistry, and
prone to be both rather light-minded and extremely sus-
picious. The permanent officials in Downing Street, with
less polite analysis, had been accustomed to regard the
islanders more bluntly as a *pack of scamps.' This was
what had done the mischief. The material condition of
the cultivators was in some respects not bad, but Mr.
Gladstone laid down a profound and solid principle when
he said that 'no method of dealing with a civilised com-
munity can be satisfactory which does not make provision
for its political action as well as its social state.' ^ The
idea of political reform had for a time made head against
the idea of union with the Greek kingdom, but for some
years past the whole stream of popular tendency and feeling
set strongly towards union, and disdained contentment with
anything else. Mankind turn naturally to the solutions that
seem the simplest. Mr. Gladstone condemned the existing
system as bad for us and bad for them. Circumstances made
it impossible for him to suggest amendment by throwing
the burden bodily off our shoulders, and at that time he
undoubtedly regarded union with Greece as in itself undesi>
able for the lonians. Circumstances and his own love of
freedom made it equally impossible to recommend the
violent suppression of tlie constitution. The only course

1 Finlay, History of Greece, vii. p. and rights of property were the reil

806, blames both Bulwer and Mr. evils that required remedy, and over

Gladstone because they ^directed these the British goyemment ooaM

Uieir attention to the means of apply- exercise very little influence if 0{^K)eed

ing sound theories of government by the Ionian representatives.* Rot

to a state of things where a change is not this to say that the real lemedy

in the social relations of the inhabit- was unattainable without politieil

ants and modifications in the tenure reform ?

CONSTITUTIONAL BBFOBM 611

left open was to turn the mockery of free government into
a reality, and this operation he proposed to carry out with
a bold hand. The details of this enlargement of popular ^^^^49.
rights and privileges, and the accompanying financial purga-
tion, do not now concern us. Whether the case either
demanded or permitted originality in the way of construc-
tion I need not discuss. The manufacture of a constitution
is always the easiest thing in the world. The question
is whether the people concerned will work it, and in spite
of that buoyant optimism which never in any circumstances
deserted him in respect of whatever business he might have
in hand, Mr. Gladstone must have doubted whether his
islanders would ever pretend to accept what they did not
seek, as a substitute for what they did seek but were not
allowed to have. Before anybody knew the scope of his
plan, the six newspapers flew to arms with a vivacity that,
whether it was Italian or was Greek, was in either case a fatal
sign of the public temper. What, they cried, did the treaty
of 1815 mean by describing the Ionian state as free and inde-
pendent? What was a protectorate, and what the rights of
the protector ? Was there no difference between a protector
and a sovereign ? What could be more arrogant and absurd
than that the protector, who was not sovereign, should talk
about ' conceding ' reforms to a free and independent state ?
All these questions were in themselves not very easy to
answer, but what was a more serious obstacle than the
argumentative puzzles of pai*tisans was a want of moral
and political courage ; was the sycophancy of one class, and
the greediness of others.^

Closely connected with the recommendations of constitu-
tional reform was the question by whom the necessary com-
munications with the assembly were to be conducted. Sir
John Young was obviously impossible, though he was not
it once brought to face the fact. Mr. Gladstone upon this
Hade to the colonial secretary (December 27) an offer that

^ May 7, 1861. Hans. 3rd Ser. that may in the course of generations

62, p. 1687. The salaries of the be made in the constitution of this

lepaties struck him as especially ex- country, the very last and latest will

tessive, and on the same occasion he be the payment of members of this

Bt fall the obiter dictum: *For my House.*
lart I trust that of all toe changes

612 THB IONIAN ISLANDS

if he bad already determined on Young's recall, and if he
thought reform would stand a better chance if introduced
1869. '^y ^^' Gladstone himself, he was willing to serve as lord
high commissioner for the very limited time that might
be necessary. We may be sure that the government lost
not an hour in making up their minds on a plan that went
still further both in the way of bringing Mr. Gladstone into
still closer connection with them, and towards relieving
themselves of a responsibility which they never from the
first had any business to devolve upon Mr. Gladstone or
anybody else. The answer came by telegraph (January 11),
*' The Queen accepts. Your commission is being made out.'

All other embarrassments were now infinitely aggravated
by the sudden discovery from the lawyers that acceptance of
the new office not only vacated the seat in parliament, but
also rendered Mr. Gladstone incapable of election until he had
ceased to hold the office. ' This, I must confess,' he told Sir
Edward, * is a great blow. The difficulty and the detriment
are serious ' (January 17). If some enemy on the meeting of
the House in February should choose to move the writ for the
vacant seat at Oxford, the election would necessarily take
place at a date too early for the completion of the business
at Corfu, and Mr. Gladstone still at work as high commissioner
would still therefore be ineligible. Nobody was ever by con-
stitution more averse than Mr. Gladstone to turning backward,
and in this case he felt himself especially bound to go for-
ward not only by the logic of the Ionian situation at the
moment, but for the reason which was also characteristic of
him, that the Queen in approving his appointment (Janu-
ary 7) had described his conduct as both patriotic and most
opportune, and therefore he thought there would be unspeak-
able shabbiness in turning round upon her by a hurried
withdrawal. The Oxford entanglement thus became almost
desperate. Resolved not to disturb the settled order of pro-
ceeding with his assembly, Mr. Gladstone with a thoroughly
characteristic union of ingenuity and tenacity tried various
ways of extrication. To complete the mortifications of the
position, the telegraph broke down.

The scrape was nearly as harassing to his friends at

QUB8TI0K OF THE OXFORD SEAT 618

home as to himself. Politicians above all men can never
safely count on the charity that thinketh no evil. Lord John
Russell told Lord Aberdeen that it was clear that Gladstone
was staying away to avoid a discussion on the coming Reform
bill. There was a violent attack upon him in the Times
(January 18) as having supplanted Young. The writers of
leading articles looked up Greek history from the days of the
visit of Ulysses to Alcinous downwards, and they mocked
his respect for the countrymen of Miltiades, and his rever-
ence for the church of Chrysostom and Athanasius. The
satirists of the cleverest journal of the day admitted his
greatness, the brilliance and originality of his finance, the
incomparable splendour of his eloquence, and a courage equal
to any undertaking, that quailed before no opposition and
suffered no abatement in defeat, and they only marvelled the
more that a statesman of the first rank should accept at the
hands of an insidious rival a fifth-rate mission — insidious
rival not named but easy to identify. The fact that Mr.
Gladstone had hired a house at Corfu was the foundation of
a transcendent story that Mr. Disraeli wished to make him
the king of the Ionian islands. *• I hardly think it needful
to assure you,' Mr. Gladstone told Lytton, ' that I have never
attached the smallest weight to any of the insinuations which
it seems people have thought worth while to launch at some
member or members of your government with respect to my
mission.' Though Mr. Gladstone was never by any means
unconscious of the hum and buzz of paltriness and malice
that often surrounds conspicuous public men, nobody was
ever more regally indifferent. Graham predicted that
though Gladstone would always be the first man in the
House of Commons, he would not again be what he was
before the Ionian business. They all thought that he
would be attacked on his return. *-4.A,' said Aberdeen,
* btU he 18 terrible in the rebound.^

After much perplexity and running to and fro in London,
it was arranged between the secretary of state and Mr.
Gladstone's friends, including Phillimore principally, and
then Northcote and M. Bernard, that a course of proceeding
should be followed, which Mr. Gladstone when he knew it

.Srt.60.

614 THB IONIAN ISLANDS

BOOK thought unfortunate. A new commission naming a suo-
, ^' J cessor was issued, and Mr. Gladstone then became ipso fado
1869. liberated. Sir Henry Storks was the officer chosen, and as
soon as his commission was formally received by him, he
was to execute a warrant under which he deputed all powers
to Mr. Gladstone until his arrival. Whether Mr. Gladstone
was lord high commissioner when he came to propose his
reform is a moot point. So intricate was the puzzle that
the under-secretary addressed a letter to Mr. Gladstone hj
his name and not by the style of his official dignity, because
he could not be at all sure what that official dignity really
was. What is certain is that Mr. Gladstone, though it was
never his way to quarrel with other people's action taken in
good faith on his behalf, did not perceive the necessity for
proceeding so rapidly to the appointment of his successor,
and thought it decidedly injurious to such chances as his
reforms might have possessed.^

The assembly that had been convoked by Sir John
Young for an extraordinary session (January 25}, at once
showed that its labours would bear no fruit. Mr. Glad-
stone as lord high commissioner opened the session with
a message that they had met to consider proposals for
reform which he desired to lay • before them as soon as
possible. The game began with the passing of a resolu-
tion that it was the single and unanimous will (^eXi;<rK)
of the Ionian people that the seven islands should be
united to Greece. Mr. Gladstone fought like a lion for
scholar's authority to treat the word as only meaning wish
or disposition, and he took for touchstone the question
whether men could speak of the 0d\r}a'i<: of the Almighty;
the word in the Lord's Prayer was found to be OiXr^uL
As Finlay truly says, it would have been much more to the
point to accept the word as it was meant by those who used
it. As to that no mistake was possible. Some say that
he ought plainly to have told them they had violated the

1 On Feb. 7, the secretary of the by accepting the office of lord huA

treasury moved the writ, and the commissioner of the Ionian Islands,

next day the vice-chancellor notified which he no longer holds.* He was

that there would be an election, Mr. re-elected (Feb. 12) without oppoai-

Gladstone having * vacated his seat tion.

OPENING OF THE IONIAN SESSION 615

constitution, to have dissolved them, and above all to have
stopped their pay. Instead of this he informed them that
they must put their wishes into the shape of a petition to jbt'co.
the Queen. The idea was seized with alacrity (January 29).
Oligarchs and demagogues were equally pleased to fall in
with it, the former because they hoped it would throw their
rivals into deeper discredit with their common master, the
latter because they knew it would endear them to their
constituents.

The Corfiotes received the declaration of the assembly and
the address to the Queen with enthusiasm. Great crowds
followed the members to their homes with joyous acclama-
tions, all the bells of the town were set ringing, there was a
grand illumination for two nights, and the archbishop ordered
a Te Beum. Neither te-deums nor prayers melted the heart
of the British cabinet, aware of the truth impressed at the
time on Mr. Gladstone by Lytton, that neither the English
public nor the English parliament likes any policy that
*give9 anything up.^ The Queen was advised to reply that
she could neither consent to abandon the obligations she
had undertaken, nor could permit any application from
the islands to other Powers in furtherance of any similar
design.

Then at last came the grand plan for constitutional recon-
struction. Mr. Gladstone after first stating the reply of the
Queen, read an eloquent address to the assembly (February 4)
in Italian, adjuring them to reject all attempts to evade by
any indirect devices the duty of pronouncing a clear and
intelligible judgment on the propositions now laid before
them. His appeal was useless, and it was received exactly
as plans for assimilating Irish administration to English
used to be. The nationalists knew that reform would be
a diflBculty the more in the way of separation, the retro-
grades knew it would be a spoke in the wheel of their
own jobbery. Mr. Gladstone professed extreme and truly
characteristic astonishment in respect of the address to
the Queen, that they should regard the permission to
ask as identical with the promise to grant, and the
right to petition as equivalent to the right to demand.

616 THB IONIAN ISLANDS

If the afbir bad been less practically vexatioos, we can
imagine tbe Socratic satisfaction witb wbicb Mr. Gladstone
1859. would bave revelled in pressing all tbese and many other
distinctions on tbose wbo boasted of being Socrates'
fellow-countrymen.

From day to day anxiously did Mr. Gladstone watch what
be called tbe dodges of tbe assembly. Abundant reason as
there was to complain of the conduct of tbe lonians in all
tbese proceedings, it is well to record tbe existence of a
number of sincere patriots and enlightened men like the
two brothers Tbemistocles, Napoleon Zambelli, and Sir
Peter Braila, afterwards Greek minister in London. This
small band of royal adherents gave Mr. Gladstone all the help
they could in preparing bis scheme of reform, and after the
scheme was launched, they strained every nerve to induce
the assembly to assent to it in spite of tbe pressure from
the people. Their efforts were necessarily unavailing. The
great majority, composed as usual of the friends of England
who trembled for their own jobs, joining hands with the
demagogues, was hostile to the changes proposed, and only
flinched from a peremptory vote from doubt as to its recep-
tion among the people. Promptitude and force were not
to be expected in either way from men in such a frame
of mind. 'On a preliminary debate,' Mr. Gladstone wrote
mournfully to Pbillimore, 'without any motion whatever,
one man has spoken for nearly tbe whole of two davs.'
Strong language about the proposals as cheating and
fraudulent was freely used, but nothing that in Mr. Glad-
stone's view justified one of those high-handed prorogations
after the manner of the Stuarts, that had been the usual
expedient in quarrels between the high commissioner and a
recalcitrant assembly. These doings bad brought English
rule over the islands to a level in the opinion of Southern
Europe with Austrian rule at Venice and the reign of the
cardinals in the pontifical states.

Sir Henry Storks arrived on the 16th of February, and
the same day the assembly which before had been working
for delay, in a great hurry gave a vote against tbe proposals,
which, though in form preliminary, was in substance decisive;

PBOOBEDINQS IK ASSEMBLY 617

tiiere were only seven dissentients. Mr. Gladstone sums up chap.
the case in a private letter to Sidney Herbert. , ' ,

Oyrju^ llih Feb. 1859. — This decision is not convenient for me -®r. 60.
personally, nor for the government at home ; but as a whole I
:^annot regret it so far as England is concerned. I think the pro-
posals give here almost for the first time a perfectly honourable
ind tenable position in the face of the islands. The first set of
oaanceuvres was directed to preventing them from being made ;
md that made me really uneasy. The only point of real impor-
tance was to get them out. ... Do not hamper yourself in this
stffair with me. Let me sink or swim. I have been labouring for
biith and justice, and am sufficiently happy in the consciousness
of it, to be little distressed either with the prospect of blame, or
with the more serious question whether I acted rightly or wrongly
in putting myself in the place of L.H.C. to propose these reforms,
— a step which has of course been much damaged by the early
nomination of Sir H. Storks, done out of mere consideration for
me in another point of view. Lytton's conduct throughout has
been such that I could have expected no more from the oldest and
most confiding friend.

To Ly tton himself he writes (Feb. 7, 1859) : —

I sincerely wish that I could have repaid your generous confi-
Lence and admirable support with recommendations suited to the
m mediate convenience of your government. But in sending me,
"ou grappled with a difficulty which you might have postponed,
Lnd I could not but do the same. Whether it was right that I
Lould come, I do not feel very certain. Yet (stolen despatch and
til) I do not regret it. For my feelings are those you have so
admirably described ; and I really do not know for what it is that
political life is worth the living, if it be not for an opportunity of
sndeavouring to redeem in the face of the world the character
Df our country wherever, it matters not on how small a scale,
iliat character has been compromised.

Language like this, as sincere as it was lofty, supplies the
true test by which to judge Mr. Gladstone's conduct both in
the Ionian transaction and many another. From the point
3f personal and selfish interest any simpleton might see that

618 THE IONIAN ISLANDS

he made a mistake, but measured by his own standard of
public virtue, how is he to be blamed, how is he not to be
1869. applauded, for undertaking a mission that, but for an unfore-
seen accident, might have redounded to the honour and the
credit of the British power?

On February 19 he quitted the scene of so many anxieties
and such strenuous effort as we have seen. The Terrible fell
into a strong north-easter in the Adriatic, and took thirty-
six hours to Pola. There they sought shelter and got across
with a smooth sea to Venice on the 23rd. He saw the
Austrian archduke whom he found kind, intelligent, earnest,
pleasing. At Turin a few days later (March 23), he had an
interview with Cavour, for whom at that moment the crowning
scenes of his great career were just opening. • At Vicenza,*
the diary records (Feb. 28), ' we had cavalry and artillery at
the station about to march ; more cavalry on the road with
a van and pickets, some with drawn swords; at Verona
regiments in review; at Milan pickets in the streets; as I
write I hear the tread of horse patrolling the streets. Dark
omens ! ' The war with Austria was close at hand.

I may as well in a few sentences finally close the Ionian
chapter, though the consummation was not immediate. Mr.
Gladstone, while he was for the moment bitten by the
notion of ceding the southern islands to Greece, was no more
touched by the nationalist aspirations of the lonians than
he had been by nationalism and unification in Italy in 1851.
Just as in Italy he clung to constitutional reforms in the
particular provinces and states as the key to regeneration,
so here he leaned upon the moderates who, while professing
strong nationalist feeling, did not believe that the time for
its realisation had arrived. A debate was raised in the House
of Commons in the spring of 1861, by an Irish member.
The Irish catholics twitted Mr. Gladstone with flying the flag
of nationality in Italy, and trampling on it in the Ionian
islands. He in reply twitted them with crying up nationality
for the Greeks, and running it down when it told against the
pope. In the Italian case Lord John Russell had (1860) set

LATEB FORTUNES OF THE ISLANDS 619

up the broad doctrine that a people are the only true judges CHAP,
who should be their rulers — a proposition that was at once ^ ' j
seized and much used by the Dandolos, Lombardos, Cavalier- ^^^ 50.
atos and the rest at Corfu. Scarcely anybody pretended
that England had any separate or selfish interest of her own.
* It is in my view,' said Mr. Gladstone, * entirely a matter of
that kind of interest only, which is in one sense the
highest interest of all — namely the interest which is in-
herent in her character and duty, and her exact and regular
fulfilment of obligations which she has contracted with
Europe.' ^

But he held the opinion that it would be nothing less than
a crime against the safety of Europe, as connected with the
state and course of the Eastern question, if England were at
ttiis moment to surrender the protectorate ; for if you should
surrender the protectorate, what were you to say to Candia,
Thessaly, Albania, and other communities of Greek stock
still under Turkish rule? Then there was a military question.
Large sums of British money had been flung away on forti-
fications,^ and people talked of Corfu as they talked in later
years about Cyprus, as a needed supplement to the strength
of Gibraltar and Malta, and indispensable to our Mediter-
ranean power. People listened agape to demonstrations
that the Ionian islands were midway between England and
the Persian Gulf ; that they were two-thirds of the way
to the Red Sea; that they blocked up the mouth of
the Adriatic; Constantinople, Smyrna, Alexandria, Naples,
formed a belt of great towns around them ; they were
Central to Asia, Europe, and Africa. And so forth in the
alarmist's well-worn currency.

L#ord Palmerston in 1850 had declared in his highest style
that Corfu was a very important position for Mediterranean
interests in the event of a war, and it would be great folly to
give it up. A year later he repeated that though he should

1 Mr. Gladstone, May 7, 1861. — engineer how much it would cost.

^ans. Third Ser. 162, p. 1687. The engineer talked about £100,000.

s Napier in his Memoir on the * Upon this Sir Thomas turned round

^o€u29o/CepAaZoma (p. 45) tells how in the boat, with a long and loud

^iaitland hdA a notion of building a whistle. After this whistle I thought

^ort on that island, and on his boat it best to let at least a year pass with-

day asked the commanding out again mentioning the subject*

620 THE IONIAN ISLANDS

not object to the annexation of the southern islands to
Greece, Corfu was too important a military and naval post
1869. ®ver to be abandoned by us.^ As Lord Palmerston changed,
so did Mr. Gladstone change. 'Without a good head for
Greece, I should not like to see the Ionian protectorate
surrendered ; with it, I should be well pleased for one to be
responsible for giving it up.' Among many other wonderful
suggestions was one that he should himself become that
*good head.' 'The fii-st mention,' he wrote to a corre-
spondent in parliament (Jan. 21, 1863), ' of my candidature
in Greece some time ago made me laugh very heartily, for
though I do love the country and never laughed at any-
thing else in connection with it before, yet the seeing my
own name, which in my person was never meant to cany
a title of any kind, placed in juxtaposition with that
particular idea, made me give way.'

Meanwhile it is safe to conjecture, for the period with
which in this chapter we are immediately concerned, that in
conceiving and drawing up his Ionian scheme, close contact
with liberal doctrines as to free institutions and popular
government must have quickened Mr. Gladstone's progress
in liberal doctrines in our own affairs at home. In 1863*
Lord Palmerston himself, in spite of that national aversion
to anything like giving up, of which he was himself the most
formidable representative, cheerfully handed the lonians
over to their kinsfolk, if kinsfolk they truly were, upon the
mainland.^

1 Ashley, ii. pp. 184, 186. magnatum be doubted, nor do the

* Dec, 8, 1862. — Cabinet. Kesolu- reports appear to have been laid be-

tion to surrender the Ionian pro- fore parliament. The Italian war was

tectorate. Only Lord W[e8tbury] then creating an agitation in Europe

opposing. upon nationality, as to which the

^ Mr. Gladstone sent home and people of the Ionian islands were

revised afterwards three elaborate sensitively alive, and the reports

reports on the mischiefs of Ionian would have supplied a good deal of

government and the constitutional fuel. There was a separate fourth

remedies proper for them. They were report upon the suppression of dis-

printed for the use of the cabinet, order in Cephalonia in 1848, which

though whether these fifty large pages, everybody afterwards agreed that it

amounting to about a quarter of this was not expedient to publish. It

volume, received much attention from still exists in the archives of the

that body, may without scandalum colonial office.

CHAPTER XI

JUNCTION WITH THE LIBERALS

(^1869)

CoNYiCTioN, in spite of early associations and long-cherished
preposessions — strong conviction, and an overpowering sense of the
public interests operating for many, many years before full effect
was given to it, placed me in the ranks of the liberal party. —
Glai>stonb (Ormskirk, 1867).

When Mr. Gladstone returned to England in March 1859, CHAP,
he found the conservatives with much ineffectual industry, ^ ^^ j
some misplaced ingenuity, and many misgivings and divi- j^^ ^^
sions, trying their hands at parliamentary reform. Their
infringement of what passed for a liberal patent was not
turning out well. Convulsions in the cabinet, murmurs in
the lobbies, resistance from the opposite benches, all showed
that a ministry existing on sufferance would not at that
stage be allowed to settle the question. In this contest
Mr. Gladstone did not actively join. Speaking from the
ministerial side of the House, he made a fervid defence of
nomination boroughs as the nurseries of statesmen, but he
voted with ministers against a whig amendment. His
desire, he said, was to settle the question as soon as possible,
always, however, on the foundation of trust in the people,
that ' sound and satisfactory basis on which for several years
past legislation had been proceeding.' The hostile amend-
ment was carried against ministers by statesmen irreconcil-
ably at variance with one another, alike in principle and
object. The majority of thirty-nine was very large for
those days, and it was decisive. Though the parliament was
little more than a couple of years old, yet in face of the
desperate confusion among leaders, parties, and groups, and

621

622 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBERALS

BOOK upon the plea that reform had not been formally submitted
^ ^^' J as an issue to the country, Lord Derby felt justified in dis-
1869. solving. Mr. Gladstone held the Oxford seat without
opposition. The constituencies displayed an extension of
the same essentially conservative feeling that had given
Lord Palmerston the victory tw^o years before. Once more
the real question lay not so much between measures as men ;
not so much between democratic change and conservative
moderation, as between Palmerston and Russell on the one
hand, and Derby and Disraeli on the other. The govern-
ment at the election improved their position by some thirty
votes. This was not enough to outnumber the phalanx of
their various opponents combined, but was it possible that
the phalanx should combine ? Mr. Gladstone, who spoke of
the dissolution as being a most improper as well as a most
important measure, alike in domestic and in foreign bearings,
told Acland that he would not be surprised if the govern-
ment were to attempt some reconstruction on a broad basis
before the new parliament met. This course was not adopted.
The chances of turning out the government were matters
of infinite computation among the leaders. The liberal whip
after the election gave his own party a majority of fifteen,
but the treasury whip, on the other hand, was equally
confident of a majority of ten. Still all was admittedly
uncertain. The prime perplexity was whether if a new
administration could be formed. Lord Palmerston or Lord
John should be at its head. Everybody agreed that it
would be both impossible and wrong to depose the tories
until it was certain that the liberals were united enough to
mount into their seat, and no government could last miless
it comprehended both the old prime ministers. Could not
one of them carry the prize of the premiership into the
Lords, and leave to the other the consolation stake of leader-
ship in the Commons? Lord Palmerston, who took the
crisis with a veteran's good-humoured coolness, told his
intimates that he at any rate would not go up to the Lords,
for he could not trust John Russell in the other House.
With a view, however, to ministerial eflBciency, he was
anxious to keep Russell in the Commons, as with him and

CRITIGAL MOMENTS 623

Gladstone they would make a strong treasury bench. But
-was it certain that Gladstone would join? On this there
was endless gossip. One story ran that Mrs. Gladstone had ^^^^
told somebody that her husband wished bygones to be
bygones, was all for a strong government, and was ready to
join in forming one. Then the personage to whom this was
said upset the inference by declaring there was nothing in
the conversation incompatible with a Derby junction. Sir
Charles Wood says in his journal : —

May 22. — Saw Mrs. Gladstone, who did not seem to contemplate
a jimction with Palmerston but rather that he should join Derby.
I stated the impossibility of that, and that the strongest govern-
ment possible under present circumstances would be by such a
union as took place under Aberdeen. To effect this, all people
must pull the same and not different ways as of late years. I said
that I blamed her husband for quitting, and ever since he quitted,
Palmerston's government in 1855, as well as Lord John ; that in
the quarrel between Lord John and Gladstone the former had
behaved ill, and the latter well.

May 27. — Gladstone dined here. ... He would vote a con-
demnation of the dissolution, and is afraid of the foreign affairs at
so critical a moment being left in the hands of Malmesbury ; says
that we, the opposition, are not only justified but called upon by
tbe challenge in the Queen's speech on the dissolution, to test the
8t;rength of parties ; but that he is himself in a different position,
tliat he would vote a condemnation of the dissolution, but hesitates
a« to no confidence.

Sir Robert Phillimore ^ gives us other glimpses during this
xxionth : —

May 18. — Long interview with Gladstone. He entered most
:f ully and without any reserve into his views on the state of
X>olitical parties and on the duties of a statesman at this juncture.
trhought the only chance of a strong government was an engraft-
ing of Palmerston upon Lord Derby, dethroning Disraeli from
"tihe leadership of the House of Commons, arranging for a moderate
^Reform bill, placing the foreign office in other hands, but not in

1 Not, however, Sir Robert until coming Queen's advocate. He was
1802, when he was knighted on be- created baronet in 1881.

624 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBEBALfi

Disraeli's. He dwelt much upon this. Foreign politics seemed
to have the chief place in his mind.
^g May 31. — Gladstone has seen Palmerston, and said he will not

vote against Lord Derby in support of Lord John's supposed
motion. The government Gladstone thinks desirable is a fiisi<Hi
of Palmerston and his followers with Lord Derby, which implies,
of course, weeding out half at least of the present cabinet Glad-
stone will have to vote with government and speak against the
cabinet, and violently he will be abused.

June 1. — Dined with Gladstone. He is much harassed and
distressed at his position relative to the government and opposi-
tion. Spoke strongly against Lord Malmesbury. Said if the
proposal is to censure the dissolution, he must agree with it, bathe
will vote against a want of confidence.

One important personage was quite confident that Glad-
stone would vote the government out. Another thought
that he would be sure to join a liberal administration. Pal-
merston believed this too, even though he might not vote
for a motion of want of confidence. Clarendon expected
Gladstone to join, though he would rather see him at the
foreign office than at the exchequer. At a dinner party at
Lord Carlisle's where Palmerston, Lord John, Granville,
Clarendon, Lewis, Argyll, and Delane were present, Sir
Charles Wood in a conversation with Mrs. Gladstone founJ
her much less inclined to keep the Derby government in.
In the last week of May a party feast was planned by Lord
Palmerston and the whip, but Lord John Russell declined
to join the dinner. It was decided to call a meeting of
the party. A confidential visitor was talking of it at Cam-
* bridge House, when the brougham came to the door to tale
Palmerston down to Pembroke Lodge. He was going, he
said, to ask Lord John what they should say if they were
asked at the meeting whether they had come to an ag^e^
ment. The interview was not unsatisfactory. Four days
later (June 6) a well-attended meeting of the party was held
at Willis's Rooms. The two protagonists declared themselves
ready to aid in forming a government on a broad basis, and
it was understood that either would serve under the other.

FALL OF THE DBRBY GOVERNMENT 625

[t would be for the sovereign to decide. Mr. Bright spoke CHAP,
n what the whigs pronounced to be a highly reasonable vein, ^ ^^' ^
md they all broke up in great spirits. The whip pored over jg^ ^q
lis lists, and made out that they could not beat the govern-
nent by less than seven. This was but a slender margin for
i vote of no confidence, but it was felt that mere numbers,
;hough a majority might be an indispensable incident, were
n this case not the only test of the conditions required
or a solid government. Lord Hartington, the representative
)f the great house of Cavendish, was put up to move a vote
)f no confidence.^

After three days' debate, ministers were defeated (June
LI) by the narrow figure of thirteen in a House of six hundred
md thirty-seven. Mr. Gladstone did not speak, but he
mswered the riddle that had for long so much harassed the
fvirepullers, by going into the lobby with Disraeli and his
lock. The general sense of the majority was probably best
jxpresaed by Mr. Bright. Since the fall of the government
)f Sir Robert Peel, he said, there had been no good handling
)f the liberal party in the House : the cabinet had been
exclusive, the policy had been sometimes wholly wrong, and
generally feeble and paltering : if in the new government
here should be found men adequately representing these
•econciled sections, acting with some measure of boldness
md power, grappling with the abuses that were admitted
4} exist, and relying upon the moral sense and honest feeling
>f the House, and the general sympathy of the people of
ESngland for improvement in our legislation, he was bold to
lope that the new government would have a longer tenure
>f office than any government that had existed for many
^ears past.

The Queen, in the embarrassment of a choice between the
;wo whig veterans, induced Lord Granville, whose cabinet life
18 yet was only some five years, to try to form a government.

1 Lord Hartington' 8 motion was — possess the confidence of this House

That it is essential for the satis- and of the country ; and we deem it

actory result of our deliberations, our duty respectfully to submit to

ind for facilitating the discharge of your Majesty that such confidence is

rour Majesty's high functions, that not reposed in the present advisers

roup Majesty's government should of your Majesty.'

VOL. 1 — 2s

626 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBEBAL8

BOOK This step Palmerston explained by her German sympathies,
' y which made her adverse alike to Lord John and himself.

1869. Lord Granville first applied to Palmerston, who said that
the Queen ought to have sent for himself first ; still he
agreed to serve. Lord John would only serve under Granville
on condition of being leader in the House of Commons ; if he
joined — so he argued — and if Palmerston were leader in the
Commons, this would make himself third instead of second :
on that point his answer was final. So Lord Granville
threw up a commission that never had life in it ; the Queen
handed the task over to Palmerston, and in a few days the
new administration was installed. (June 17, 1859.)

II
Mr. Gladstone went back to the office that he had
quitted four years and a half before, and undertook the
department of finance. The appointment did not pass
without considerable remark. ' The real scandal,' he wrote
to his Oxford chairman, * is among the extreme men on the
liberal side ; they naturally say, " This man has done all he
could on behalf of Lord Derby ; why is he here to keep out
one of us ? '" Even some among Mr. Gladstone's private
friends wondered how he could bring himself to join a
minister of whom he had for three or four years used such
unsparing language as had been common on his lips about
Lord Palmerston. The plain man was puzzled by a vote
in favour of keeping a tory government in, followed by a
junction with the men who had thrown that government out.
Cobden, as we know, declined to join.^ ' I am exceedingly
sorry,' wrote Mr. Gladstone to his brother Robertson (July
2), ' to find that Cobden does not take office. It was in his
person that there seemed to be the best chance of a favour-
able trial of the experiment of connecting his friends with
the practical administration of the government of this
country. I am very glad we have Gibson ; but Cobden
would, especially as an addition to the former, have made
a great difference in point of weight.'*

1 Lift of Cobden, ii. pp. 220-233. visiting Lord Aberdeen, and displir-

3 There is a strange story in the ing much ill humour. * He cannot

Halifax Papers of Bright at this time reconcile himself to not being oob-

AGAIN AT THE BXOHBQUBB 627

Mr. Gladstone, with no special anxiety to defend himself,
was clear about his own course. * Never,' he says, ' had I an
easier question to determine than when I was asked to ^x. 60.
join the government. I can hardly now think how I could
have looked any one in the face, had I refused my aid (such
as it is) at such a time and under such circumstances.'
* At a moment,' he wrote to the warden of All Souls, ' when
war is raging in Europe, when the English government
is the only instrument through which there is any hope,
humanly speaking, of any safe and early settlement, and
when all parties agree that the government of the Queen
ought to be strengthened, I have joined the only adminis-
tration that could be formed, in concert with all the friends
(setting aside those whom age excludes) with whom I joined
and acted in the government of Lord Aberdeen.'

To the provost of Oriel he addressed a rather elaborate
explanation,^ but it only expands what he says more
briefly in a letter (June 16) to Sir William Heathcote, an
excellent and honourable man, his colleague in the repre-
sentation of Oxford : —

I am so little sensible of having had any very doubtful point
to consider, that I feel confident that, given the antecedents of
the problem as they clearly stood before me, you would have
decided in the way that I have done. For thirteen years, the
middle space of life, I have been cast out of party connection,
severed from my old party, and loath irrecoverably to join a new
one. So long have I adhered to the vague hope of a reconstruc-
tion, that I have been left alone by every political friend in
association with whom I had grown up. My votes too, and
such support as I could give, have practically been given to
Lord Derby's government, in such a manner as undoubtedly to
divest me of all claims whatever on the liberal party and the
incoming government. Under these circumstances I am asked
to take office. The two leading points which must determine

sidered capable of taking oflBce. Lord think it not a bad scheme ' (June 16,

John broached a scheme for sending 1859). Many curious things sprang

him as governor-general to Canada, up in men's minds at that moment.

I rather doubted the exi)ediency of ^ Reproduced in Mr. Russell's

this, but Mr. Gladstone seemed to book on Mr. Gladstone, pp. 144-6.

628 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBERALS

BOOK immediate action are those of reform and foreign policy. On
^^' J the first I think that Lord Derby had by dissolution lost all

1869. chance of settling it ; and, as I desire to see it settled, it seems
my duty to assist those who perhaps may settle it. Upon the
second I am in real and close harmony of sentiment with the new
premier, and the new foreign secretary. How could I, under
these circumstances, say, I will have nothing to do with you, and
be the one remaining Ishmael in the House of Commons ?

Writing to Sir John Acton in 1864, Mr. Gladstone said : —

When I took my present office in 1859, I had several
negative and several positive reasons for accepting it. Of
the first, there were these. There had been differences and
collisions, but there were no resentments. I felt myself to be
mischievous in an isolated position, outside the regular party
organisation of parliament. And I was aware of no differences of
opinion or tendency likely to disturb the new government. Then
on the positive side. I felt sure that in finance there was still
much useful work to be done. I was desirous to co-operate in
settling the question of the franchise, and failed to anticipate the
disaster that it was to undergo. My friends were enlisted, or I
knew would enlist: Sir James Graham indeed declining offiw,
but taking his position in the party. And the overwhelminij
interest and weight of the Italian question, and of our foreign
policy in connection with it, joined to my entire mistrust of the
former government in relation to it, led me to decide without one
moment's hesitation. . . .

On the day on which Mr. Gladstone kissed hands (June
18) disturbing news came from Oxford. Not only was his
re-election to be opposed, but the enemy had secured the
most formidable candidate that he had yet encountered,
in the person of Lord Chandos, the eldest son of the Duke
of Buckingham. His old chairman became chairman for
his new antagonist, and Stafford Northcote, who with
Phillimore and Bernard had hitherto fought every election
on his behalf, now refused to serve on his committee, while
even Sir John Coleridge was alarmed at some reported
wavering on the question of a deceased wife's sister.

CONTEST AT OXFORD 629

^Gladstone, angry, harassed, sore,' Phillimore records, 'as
well he might be.' The provost of Oriel explains to him
that men asked whether his very last vote had not been a j£f^^
vote of confidence in a Derby government, and of want of
confidence in a Palmerston government, yet he had joined
the government in which he declared by anticipation that he
had no confidence. After all, the root of the anger against
him was simply that the tories were out and the liberals in,
with himself as their strongest confederate. A question
was raised whether he ought not to go down and address
convocation in person. The dean of Christ Church, how-
ever, thought it very doubtful whether he would get a hear-
ing. * Those,' he told Mr. Gladstone, 'who remember Sir
Robert Peel's election testify that there never was a more
unreasonable and ferocious mob than convocation was at that
time. If you were heard, it is doubtful whether you would
gain any votes at that last moment, while it is believed
you would lose some. You would be questioned as to the
ecclesiastical policy of the cabinet. Either you would not
be able to answer fully, or you would answer in such
terms as to alienate one or other of the two numerous
classes who will now give you many votes.'

The usual waterspout began to pour. The newspapers
asserted that Mr. Gladstone meant to cut down naval
estimates, and this moved the country clergy to angry
apprehension that he was for peace at any price. The
candidate was obliged to spend thankless hours on letters
to reassure them. ' The two assertions of fact respecting
me are wholly unfounded. I mean these two : — 1. That
as chancellor of the exchequer I " starved " the Crimean
war : that is to say limited the expenditure upon it. There
is not a shadow of truth in this statement. 2. That as
soon as the war was over I caused the government to reduce
their estimates, diminish the army, disband two fleets, and
break faith with our seamen. When the war was over,
that is in the year 1856, I did not take objection at all
to the establishment or expenditure of the year. In the
next year, 1857, I considered that they ought to have
been further reduced : but neither a man nor a shilling

630 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBRRATifl

was taken from them in consequence of my endeavours/
Other correspondents were uneasy about his soundness on
1869. ^fl® corps and rifle clubs. * How,' he replied, * can any
uncertainty exist as to the intentions in regard to defence in
a government with Lord Palmerston at its head ? ' He was
warned that Cobden, Bright, and Gibson were odious in
Oxford, and he was suspected of being their accomplice.
The clamour against Puseyism had died down, and the
hostility of the evangelicals was no long^er keen ; otherwise
it was the old story. Gold win Smith tells him, * Win or lose,
you will have the vote of every one of heart and brain in
the university and really connected with it. Young Oxford
is all with you. Every year more men obtain the reward of
their industry through your legislation. But old Oxford
takes a long time in dying.' In the end (July 1), he won the
battle by a majority of 191 — Gladstone, 1060, Chandos, 859.
My conscience is light and clear,' he wrote to Heathcote
in the course of the contest. *The interests that have
weighed with me are in some degree peculiar, and I daresay
it is a fault in me, especially as member for Oxford, that I
cannot merge the man in the representative. While they
have had much reason to complain, I have not had an over-
good bargain. In the estimate of mere pleasure and pam,
the representation of the university is not worth my having;
for though the account is long on both sides, the latter is
the heavier, and sharper. In the true estimates of good
and evil, I can look back upon the last twelve years with
some satisfaction, first, because I feel that as far as I am
capable of labouring for anything, I have laboured for
Oxford ; and secondly, because in this respect at least
I have been happy, that the times afforded me in various
ways a field. And even as to the contemptible summing up
between suffering and enjoyment, my belief is that the latter
will endure, while the former will pass away.' The balance
struck in this last sentence is a characteristic fragment
of Mr. Gladstone's philosophy of public life. It lightened
and dispelled the inevitable hours of disappointment and
chagrin that, in natures of less lofty fortitude than his, are
apt to slacken the nerve and rust the sword.

PARTY SEVERANCE, NOT CHANGED PRINCIPLES 631
lU

It seems a mistake to treat the acceptance of office under
Lord Palmerston as a chief landmark in Mr. Gladstone's
protracted journey from tory to liberal. The dilemma jet,50.
between joining Derby and joining Palmerston was no vital
choice between two political creeds. The new prime minister
and his chancellor of the exchequer had both of them started
with Canning for their common master ; but there was a
generation between them, and Mr. Gladstone had travelled
along a road of his o^vn, perhaps not even now perceiving
its goal. As we have seen, he told Mr. Walpole in May
1858 (p. 584), that there were ' no broad and palpable differ-
ences of opinion on' public questions of principle,' that
separated himself from the Derbyite tories.^ Palmerston
on the other hand was so much of a Derbyite tory, that his
government, which Mr. Gladstone was now entering, owed
its long spell of office and power to the countenance of Derby
and his men. Mr. Bright had contemplated (p. 579) the
possibility of a reverse process — a Derbyite government
favoured by Palmerston's men. In either case, the political
identity of the two leaders was recognised. To join the new
administration, then, marked a party severance but no
changed principles. I am far from denying the enormous
significance of the party wrench, but it was not a conversion.
Mr. Gladstone was at this time in his politics a liberal
reformer of Turgot's type, a born lover of good government,
of just practical laws, of wise improvement, of public business
well handled, of a state that should emancipate and serve
the individual. The necessity of summoning new driving
force, and amending the machinery of the constitution,
had not yet disclosed itself to him. This was soon dis-
covered by events. Meanwhile he may well have thought
that he saw as good a chance of great work with Palmerston
as with Disraeli ; or far better, for the election had shown

1 It is worth noticing that he sat on the opposition side ; during the

on the ministerial side of the House Palmerston administration of 1855

without breach of continuity from he sat below the gangway on the

1863 to 1866. During the first Derby government side ; and he remained

government, as we have already seen there after the second Derby acce£h

(p. 423), he sat below the gangway sion to office in 1868.

632 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBBBAL8

BOOK that Bright was not wrong when he warned him that a
• J Derby government could only exist upon forbearance.

1359 Bright's own words already referred to (p. 625) sufl&ciently

describe Mr. Gladstone's point of view ; the need for a
ministry with men in it * acting with some measure of
boldness and power, grappling with abuses, and relying
upon the moral sense and honest feeling of the House, and
the general sympathy of the people of England for improve-
ment.' With such purposes an alliance with liberals of
Lord Palmerston's temper implied no wonderful dislodgment.
The really great dislodgment in his life had occurred
long before. It was the fates that befell his book, it was
the Maynooth grant, and the Gorham case, that swept
away the foundations on which he had first built. In writing
to Manning in 1846 (April 25) after his retirement on the
question of Maynooth, Mr. Gladstone says to him, * Newman
sent me a letter giving his own explanation of my position.
It was admirably done.' Newman in his letter told him
that various persons had asked how he understood Mr. Glad-
stone's present position, so he put down what he conceived
it to be, and he expresses the great interest that he feels in
the tone of thought then engaging the statesman's mind : —

I say then [writes Newman, addressing an imaginary inter-
locutor]: 'Mr. Gladstone has said the state oughX to have
a conscience, but it has not a conscience. Can lie give it a
conscience ? Is he to impose his own conscience on the state ?
He would be very glad to do so, if it thereby would become
the state's conscience. But that is absurd. He must deal with
facts. It has a thousand consciences, as being in its legislative
and executive capacities the aggregate of a hundred minds ; that
is, it has no conscience.

* You will say, " Well the obvious thing would be, if the state
has not a conscience, that he shall cease to be answerable for it."
So he has — he has retired from the ministry. While he thought
he could believe it had a conscience — till he was forced to give up,
what it was his duty to cherish as long as ever he could, the notion
that the British empire was a subject and servant of the kingdom
of Christ — he served the state. Now that he finds this to k

LETTER FROM NEWMAN 633

a mere dream, much as it ought to be otherwise, and as it once CHAP,
was otherwise, he has said, I cannot serve such a mistress. ^ ^^' ^

* But really,' I continue, * do you in your heart mean to say that j^^. 50.
he should absolutely and for ever give up the state and country ?

I hope not. I do not think he has so committed himself. That
the conclusion he has come to is a very grave one, and not con-
sistent with his going on blindly in the din and hurry of business,
without having principles to guide him, I admit; and this, I
conceive, is his reason for at once retiring from the ministry, that
he may contemplate the state of things calmly and from without.
But I really cannot pronounce, nor can you, nor can he perhaps at
once, what is a Christian's duty under these new circumstances,
whether to remain in retirement from public affairs or not. Retire-
ment, however, could not be done by halves. If he is absolutely
to give up all management of public affairs, he must retire not only
from the ministry but from parliament.

* I see another reason for his retiring from the ministry. The
public thought they had in his book a pledge that the government
^would not take such a step with regard to Maynooth as is now
"before the country. Had he continued in the ministry he would
tx> a certain extent have been misleading the country.

' You say, " He made some show of seeing his way in future, for
tie gave advice ; he said it would be well for all parties to yield
something. To see his way and to give advice is as if he had
:£ound .some principle to go on." I do not so understand him. I
't^hought he distinctly stated he had not yet found a principle. But
lie gave that advice which facts, or what he called circumstances,
made necessary, and which if followed out, will, it is to be hoped,
lead to some basis of principle which we do not see at present.'

Compared to the supreme case of conscience indicated
lere, and it haunted Mr. Gladstone for nearly all his life,
the perplexities of party could be but secondary. Those
perplexities were never sharper than in the four years from
1854 to 1859 ; and with his living sense of responsibility for
the right use of transcendent powers of national service, it
was practically inevitable that he should at last quit the
barren position of ^ the one remaining Ishmael in the House
of Commons.'

684 JUNCTION WITH THE LIBEBAL8

BOOK Later in this year Mr. Gladstone was chosen to be the first
^ ^y* J lord rector of the university of Edinburgh under powers
1859. conferred by a recent law. His unsuccessful rival was Lord
Neaves, excellent as lawyer, humorist, and scholar. In
April the following year, in the midst of the most trying
session of his life, he went down from the battle-ground at
Westminster, and delivered his rectorial address ^ — not par-
ticularly pregnant, original, or pithy, but marked by incom-
parable buoyancy ; enforcing a conception of the proper
functions of a university that can never be enforced too
strongly or too often ; and impressing in melodious period
and glowing image those ever needed commonplaces about
thrift of time and thirst for fame and the glory of knowledge,
that kindle sacred fire in young hearts. It was his own
career, intellectual as well as political, that gave to his
discourse momentum. It was his own example that to
youthful hearers gave new depth to a trite lesson, when
he exclaimed : ' Believe me when I tell you that the thrift
of time will repay you in after life with an usury of profit
beyond your most sanguine dreams, and that the waste
of it will make you dwindle, alike in intellectual and in
moral stature, beneath your darkest reckonings.' So too,
we who have it all before us know that it was a maxim
of his own inner life, when he told them : * The thirst for
an enduring fame is near akin to the love of true excellence;
but the fame of the moment is a dangerous possession
and a bastard motive; and he who does his acts in order
that the echo of them may come back as a soft music in
his ears, plays false to his noble destiny as a Christian man,
places himself in continual danger of dallying with wrong,
and taints even his virtuous actions at their source.'

1 The Addrees is in Gleanings, viL

APPENDIX

CHOICE OF PROFESSION

Page 8g

Mr, Gladstone to his Father

Chiddesdon, Aug. 4, 1830. — My beloved Father, — I have a
good while refrained from addressing you on a subject of impor-
tance and much affecting my own future destiny, from a supposi-
tion that your time and thoughts have been much occupied for
several months past by other matters of great interest in succes-
sion. Now, however, believing you to be more at leisure, j. venture
to bring it before you. It is, as you will have anticipated, the
decision of the profession to which I am to look forward for life.
Above eighteen months have now passed since you spoke to me of
it at Seaforth, and most kindly desired me, if unable then to make
up my mind to go into the law, to take some time to consider
calmly of the whole question.

It would have been undutiful to trouble you with a recurrence
of it, until such a period had been suffered to elapse, as would
suffice to afford, by the effects it shoidd itself produce, some fair
criterion and presumption of the inclination which my mind was
likely to adopt in reference to the^naZ decision. At the same time
it would also have been undutiful, and most repugnant to my
feelings, to permit the prolongation of that intervening period to
such an extent, as to give the shadow of a reason to suppose that
anything approaching to reserve had been the cause of my silence.
The present time seems to lie between these two extremes, and
therefore to render it incumbent on me to apprise you of the state
of my own views.

I trust it is hardly necessary to specify my knowledge that when
I speak of * the state of my own views ' on this question, I do so
not of right but by sufferance, by invitation from you, by that
more than parental kindness and indulgence with which I have
ever met at my parents' hands, which it would be as absurd to
make a matter of formal acknowledgment as it would be impossi-
ble to repay, and for which I can only say, and I say it from the
bottom of my heart, may God reward them with his best and
choicest gifts, eternal, unfading in the heavens.

If then I am to advert to the disposition of my own mind as

636

636 APPENDIX

regards this matter, I cannot avoid perceiving that it has inclined
to the ministerial office, for what has now become a considerable
period, with a bias at first uncertain and intermittent, bat which
has regularly and rapidly increased in force and permanence. It
has not been owing as far as I can myself discern, to the operation
of any external cause whatever ; nor of internal ones to any others
than those which work their effects in the most gradual and imper-
ceptible manner. Day after day it has grown upon and into my
habit of feeling and desire. It has been gradually strengthened bj
those small accessions of power, each of which singly it would be
utterly impossible to trace, but which collectively have not onlj
produced a desire of a certain description, but nave led me by
reasonings often weighed and sifted and re-sifted to the best of
my ability, to the deliberate conclusion which I have stated
above. I do not indeed mean to say that there has been no
time within this period at which I have felt a longing for other
pursuits; but such feelings have been unstable and temporary;
that which I now speak of is the permanent and habitual inchna-
tion of my mind. And such too, I think, it is likely to continue ;
as far at least as I can venture to think I see anything belonging
to the future, or can anticipate the continuance of any one desire,
feeling, or principle, in a mind so wayward and uncertain as my
own — so far do I believe that this sentiment will remain.

It gives me pain, great pain, to communicate anything which I
have even the remotest apprehension can give the slightest annoy-
ance to you. I trust this will not do so ; although I fear it may.
But though fearing it may, I feel it is my duty to do it : because
I have only these three alternatives before me. First, to delay
communication to some subsequent opportunity: but as I have
no fair prospect of being able then to convey a different statement,
this plan would be attended with no advantage whatever, as far
as I can see. Secondly, to dissemble my feelings : an altemati?e
on which if I said another word I should be behaving undutifully
and wickedly towards you. Thirdly, to follow the course I have
now chosen, I trust with no feelings but those of the most pro-
found affection, and of unfeigned grief that as far as my own view
is concerned, I am unable to make it coincide with yours. I say,
as far as my own view goes, because I do not now see that my own
view can or ought to stand for a moment in the way of your
desires. In the hands of my parents, therefore, I am left. But lest
you should be led to suppose that I have never reasoned with my-
self on this matter, bat yielded to blind impulses or transitory
whims, I will state, not indeed at length, but with as much simplic-
ity and clearness as I am able, some of the motives which seem to
me to urge me with an irresistible accumulation of moral force, to
this conclusion, and this alone. In the first place, I would say that
my own state and character is not one of them ; nor, I believe, could
any views of that character be compatible with their existence and
reception, but that in which it now appears to me : namely, as one
on which I can look with no degree of satisfaction whatever, and

CHOICE OF. PROFESSION 637

for the purification of which I can only direct my eyes and offer
up my prayers to the throne of God.

First, then, with reference to the dignity of this office, I know
none to compare with it ; none which can compete with the grandeur
of its end or of its means — the end, the glory of God, and the
means, the restoration of man to that image of his Maker which is
now throughout the world so lamentably defaced. Tme indeed
it is, that there are other fields for the use and improvement of
all which God lends to us, which are wide, dignified, beneficial,
desirable : desirable in the first and highest degree, if we had not
this. But as long as this field continues, and as long as it continues
unfilled, I do not see how I am to persuade myself that any
powers, be they the meanest or the greatest, can be so profitably
or so nobly employed as in the performance of this sublime duty.
And that this field is not yet filled, how can any one doubt who
casts his eyes abroad over the moral wilderness of this world, who
contemplates the pursuits, desires, designs, and principles of the
beings that move so busily in it to and fro, without an object
beyond the finding food, be it mental or bodily, for the present
moment or the present life — it matters little which — or beyond
ministering to the desires, under whatever modification they may
appear, of self-will and self-love? When I look to the standard of
habit and principle adopted in the world at large, and then divert
my eyes for a moment from that spectacle to the standard fixed and
the picture delineated in the book of revelation, then, my beloved
father, the conviction flashes on my soul with a moral force I cannot
resist, and would not if I could, that the vineyard still wants
labourers, that * the kingdoms of this world are not yet become the
kingdoms of our Lord and of his Christ,' and that till they are
become such, till the frail race of Adam is restored to the know-
ledge and the likeness of his Maker, till universally and throughout
the wide world the will of God is become our delight, and its
accomplishment our first and last desire, there can be no claim so
solemn and imperative as that which even now seems to call to us
with the voice of God from heaven, and to say * I have given Mine
own Son for this rebellious and apostate world, the sacrifice is offered
and accepted, but you, you who are basking in the sunbeams of
Christianity, you who are blessed beyond measure, and, oh, how
beyond desert in parents, in friends, in every circumstance and
adjunct that can sweeten your pilgrimage, why will you not bear
to fellow-creatures sitting in darkness and the shadow of death the
tidings of this universal and incomprehensible love ? '

In this, I believe, is included the main reason which influences
me ; a reason as full of joy as of glory : that transcendent reason,
in comparison with which every other object seems to dwindle into
utter and absolute insignificance. But I would not conceal from
you — why should I ? — that which I cannot conceal from myself:
that the darker side of this great picture sometimes meets me, and
it is vain that, shuddering, I attempt to turn away from it. My
mind involuntarily reverts to the sad and solemn conviction that

638 APPENDIX

a fearfully great portion of the world round me is dying in ao.
This conviction is the result of that same comparison I have mea-
tioned before, between the principles and practices it embiacei,
and those which the Almighty authoritatively enjoins: and «!««•.
taininrf it as I do, how, my beloved parent, can I bear to think of
my own seeking to wanton in the pleasures of life (I mean even its
innocent pleasures), or to give up my heart to its business, wink
my fellow-creatures, to whom I am bound by every tie of homiii
sympathies, of a common sinfulness and a common redemp^
day after day are sinking into death ? I mean, not the death rf
the body, which is but a gate either to happiness or to misery, brt
that of the soul, the true and the only true death. Can I, with
this persuasion engrossing me, be justified in inactivity ? or in any
measure short of the most direct and most effective means cif
meeting, if in any degree it be possible, these horrible calamities?
Nor is impotency and incompetency any argument on the otha
side : if I saw a man drowning I should hold out my hand to help
him, although I were uncertain whether my strength would profe
sufficient to extricate him or not ; how much more strongly, thra,is
this duty incumbent when there are thousands on thousands perish-
ing in sin and ignorance on every side, and where the stake is not
the addition or subtraction of a few short years from a life, which
can but be a span, longer or shorter, but the doom, the irrevocaHe
doom of spirits made for God, and once like God, but now alienated
and apostate ? And the remedy which God has provided for this
portentous evil is not like the ponderous and elaborate contrivances
of men ; its spear is not, like Goliath's, the weaver's beam, butallits
weapons are a few pure and simple elements of truth, ill calculated,
like the arms of David, in the estimation of the world to attain
their object, but yet capable of being wielded by a striplings
hand, and yet more, * mighty, through God, to the pulling down
of strongholds.'

What I have said is from the bottom of my heart, and put for-
ward without the smallest reservation of any kind : and I ha«
said it thus, because in duty bound to do it ; and having, too, tiie
comfort of the fullest persuasion that even if your judgment shooM
disallow it, your affection would pardon it. It is possible, indeed,
that the (as it seems to me) awful consideration which I have last
put forward may have been misstated or misapprehended. Would
God it may be so ! happy should I be to find either by reason of
revelation that the principles of this world were other than I hare
estimated them to be, and consequently that their fate would be
other likewise. I may be under darkness and delusion, having
consulted with none in this matter ; but till it is shown that. I aa
80, 1 am bound by all the most solemn ties, ties not created in ths
world nor to be dissolved with it, but eternal and changeless «
our spirits and He who made them, to regulate my actions with
reference to these all-important truths — the apostasy of man (»
the one hand, the love of God on the other. Of my duties to nt*
as a social being, can any be so important as to tell them of the

(

CHOICE OF PROFESSION 639

«r under which I believe them to lie, of the precipice to which
jr many are approaching, while thousands have alreadj fallen
long, and others again, even while I write, are continuing to
in a succession of appalling rapidity ? Of my duties to Ood as
aonal and responsible being, especially as a being for whom in
non with all men the precious blood of Christ has been given,
my more imperatively and more persuasively demand all the
I I can give than this, the proclaiming that one instance of
8 unfathomable love which alone so transcends as almost to
low up all others ? while those others thus transcended and
«ed are such as would be of themselves by far the highest and
«t obligations man could know, did we not know this.
lus I have endeavoured to state these truths, if truths they
at least these convictions, to you, dwelling upon them at a
bh which may perhaps be tedious and appear affected, simply
trust, in order to represent them to your mind as much to the
IS possible, I mean as nearly as possible in the light in which

have again and again appeared, and do habitually appear, to
>wn, so as to give you the best means in my power of estimat-
the strength or detecting the weakness of those grounds on
;h the conclusions above stated rest. (I have not mentioned
benefit I might hope myself to derive from this course of
ig compared with others ; and yet this consideration, though

undoubtedly a secondary one, is, I believe, more weighty
L any of those which can be advanced in favour of an opposite
rmination.)

3T some time I doubted whether to state reasons at all:
ing that it might appear presumptuous ; but I resolved to do
3 choosing rather to incur that risk, than the hazarding an
?arance of reserve and desire to conceal my real sentiments
1 one who has a right to see into the bottom of my heart.
et one trespass more I must make on your patience. It may
laps seem that the inducements I have stated are of an unusual
•acter, unsubstantial, romantic, theoretical, and not practical,
isual, indeed, they are: because (though it is not without
denee that I bring this sweeping charge — indeed, I should not
J to bring it were it not brought elsewhere) it is a rare thing in

world even where right actions are performed to ground them
[I right motives. At least, I am convinced that there are
lamental errors on this subject very prevalent — that they are
eneral fixed far too low, and that the height of our standard of
tice must ever be adapted more or less to that of principle.

only knows whether this be right. But hence it has been that
tve endeavoured, I trust not improperly, to put these motives
rard in the simplicity of that form wherein they seem to me to
e down from the throne of God to the hearts of men ; and to
dder my prospects and obligations, not under all the limitations
3h a highly artificial state of society might seem to impose
1 them, but direct and undiluted; not, in short, as one who
certain pursuits to follow, certain objects of his own to gain.

640 APPENDIX

and relations to f ulfil, and arrangements to execute — but as a being
destined shortly to stand before the judgment seat of God, and
there give the decisive account of his actions at the tribunal whose
awards admit of no evasion and of no appeaL

That I have viewed them in this light I dare not assert ; hut I
have wished and striven to view them so, and to weigh theuu and
to answer these questions in the same manner as I must answer
them on that day when the trumpet of the archangel shall aroose
the living and the dead, and when it will be demanded of me in
common with all others, how I have kept and how employed that
which was committed to my charge. I dare not pretend that I
could act even up to the standard here fixed, but I can eye it
though distant, with longing hope, and look upwards for the power
which I know is all-sufficient, and therefore sufficient to enable
even such an one as myself to reach it.

Viewing, then, these considerations in such a light as this, I can
come to no other conclusion, at least unaided, than that the work
of spreading religion has a claim infinitely transcending all others
in dignity, in solemnity, and in usefulness : destined to continue
in force until the happy moment come when every human being has
been made fully and effectually acquainted with his condition and
its remedies — when too, as it seems to me, it will be soon enough—
of course, I lay down this rule for myself, provided as I am to the
extent of my wants and very far beyond them — to devise other
occupations : now it behoves me to discharge the overwhelming
obligation which summons me to this.

I have scarcely mentioned my beloved mother in the whole of
this letter ; for tnough little has ever passed between us on this
subject through the medium of language, and nothing whatever,
I believe, since I last spoke with you upon it, yet I have long been
well aware of the tendency of her desires, long indeed before mv
own in any degree coincided with them.

I await with deference and interest the communication of your
desires upon this subject: earnestly desiring that if I have said
anything through pride or self-love, it may be forgiven me at your
hands, and by God through his Son ; and that if my statements
be false, or exaggerated, or romantic, or impracticable, I may, by
His mercy and through your instrumentality or that of others, be
brought back to my right mind, and taught to hold the truth of
God in all its sobriety as well as in all its force. — And believe
me ever, my beloved and honoured father, your affe<;tionate and
dutiful son, Wm. E. Gladstone.

John Gladstone to his Son

Leamington, 10 Aug, 1830.
My beloved William, — I have read and given my best con-
sideration to your letter, dated the 4th, which I only received
yesterday. I did hope that you would have delayed making up
your mind on a subject so important as your future pursuits in

CANADA 641

e must be to yourself and to us all, until you had completed
ose studies connected with the attainment of the honours or
jtinctions of which you were so justly ambitious, and on which
ur mind seemed so bent when we last communicated respecting
em. You know my opinion to be, that the field for actual useful-
ss to our fellow-crfeatures, where a disposition to exercise it
tively exists, is more circumscribed and limited in the occupa-
ms and duties of a clergyman, whose sphere of action, unless
iiralities are admitted (as I am sure they would not be advocated
you) is necessarily in a great degree confined to his parish, than
those professions or pursuits which lead to a more general
owledge, as well as a more general intercourse with mankind,
ch as the law, taking it as a basis, and introduction to public life,
which I had looked forward for you, considering you, as I do,
culiarly well qualified to be made thus eminently useful to
tiers, with credit and satisfaction to yourself. There is no doubt
t as a clergyman, faithfully and conscientiously discharging the
ties of that office to those whose spiritual interests are entrusted
your care, should you eventually be placed in that situation,
%t you may have both comfort and satisfaction, with few worldly
jponsibilities, but you will allow me to doubt whether the picture
ur perhaps too sanguine mind has drawn in your letter before
5, would ever be practically realised. Be this as it may, when-
er your mind shall be finally made up on this most important
bject, I shall trust to its being eventually for your good, what-
er that determination may be. In the meantime I am certainly
sirous that those studies with which you have been occupied in
iding for your degree may be followed up, whether the shorter
longer period may be necessary to prepare you for the results.
)u are young and have ample time before you. Let nothing be
ne rashly ; be consistent with yourself, and avail yourself of all
e advantages placed within your reach. If, when that ordeal is
ssed, you should continue to think as you now do, I shall not
pose your then preparing yourself for the church, but I do
pe that your final determination will not until then be taken,
d that whatever events may occur in the intervsd, you will
ire them such weight and consideration as they may appear to
jrit. . . . Your mother is much as usual. — With our united and
ectionate love, I ever am your affectionate father,

John Gladstone.

CANADA, 1838

Page lU

Jan. 20/38. — To-day there was a meeting on Canada at
r R. Peel's. There were present Duke of Wellington, Lords
)erdeen, Ripon, EUenborough, Stanley, Hardinge, and others. . . .
el said he did not object to throwing out the government pro-
led it were done by us on our own principles ; but that to throw
em out on radical principles would be most unwise. He agreed

VOL. 1—2 T

642 APPENDIX

that less miglit have been done, but was not willing to take the
responsibility of refusing what the goyemment asked. He thought
that this rebellion had given a most convenient opportunity for
settling the question of tiie Canadian constitution, which had long
been a thorny one and inaccessible ; that if we postponed the
settlement by giving the assembly another trial, the revolt would
be forgotten, and in colder blood the necessary powers might be
refused. He thought that when once you went into a measure
of a despotic character, it was well to err, if at all, on the side of
sufficiency ; Lord Bipon strongly concurred. The duke sat with
his hand to his ear, turning from one towards another round the
circle as they took up the conversation in succession, and said
nothing till directly and pressingly called upon by Peel, a simple
but striking example of the self-forgetfulness of a great man.

Jan, 26/38. — I was myself present at about eight hours [t.e. on
three occasions! of discussion in Peel's house upon the Canadian
question and bill, and there was one meeting held to which I was
not summoned. The conservative amendments were all adopted
in the thoroughly straightforward view of looking simply at the
bill and not at the government and the position of parties. Peel
used these emphatic words : ' Depend upon it, our course is the
direct one ; don't do anything that is wrong for the sake of put-
ting them out ; don't avoid anything that is right for the sake of
keeping them in.' Every one of these points has now been carried
without limitation or exception. For the opposition party this is,
in familiar language, a feather in its cap. The whole has been
carefully, thoroughly, and effectually done. Nothing since I hare
been in parliament — not even the defeat of the Church Rate
measure last year — has been of a kind to tell so strikingly as
regards appearances upon the comparative credit of the two
parties.

SIB BOBERT PEEL'S GOVEBNMENT

Page W

In the great mountain of Mr, Gladstones papers I have come acroa
an unfinished and undated draft of a letter written by him for the
Queen in 1880 on Sir Robert PeeTs government : —

Mr. Gladstone with his humble duty reverts to the letter which
your Majesty addressed to him a few days back, and in which
your Majesty condescended to recollect and to remind him of the
day now nearly forty years ago, a day he fears not altogether one
of pleasure to vour Majesty, when together with others he had
the honour to oe sworn of your Majesty's privy council. Your
Majesty is pleased to pronounce upon the government then in-
stalled into office a high eulogy : a eulogy which Mr. Gladstone
would presume, as far as he may, to echo. He values it, and
values the recollection of the men who principally composed it,
because it was, in the first place, a most honourable and high-
minded government; because its legislative acts tended greatly,

CRISIS ON THE SUGAB DUTIBS 648

and almost uniformly, to increase the wellbeing of the conntry,
and to strengthen the attachment of the people to the throne and
the laws ; while it studied in all things to maintain the reverse of
an ambitious or disturbing policy.

It was Mr. Gladstone's good fortune to live on terms of intimacy,
and even affection, with the greater portion of its principal and
more active members until the close of their valued lives; and
although he is far from thinking that they, and he himself with
them, committed no serious errors, yet it is his conviction that in
many of the most important rules of public policy that govern-
ment surpassed generally the governments which have succeeded
it, whether liberal or conservative. Among them he would men-
tion purity in patronage, financial strictness, loyal adherence to
the principle of public economy, jealous regard to the rights of
parliament, a single eye to the public interest, strong aversion
to extension of territorial responsibilities, and a frank admission
of the rights of foreign countries as equal to those of their own.
With these recollections of the political character of Sir R. Peel
and his government Mr. Gladstone has in no way altered his
feelings of regard and respect for them. In all the points he has
mentioned he would desire to tread in their steps, and in many
of them, or at least in some, he has no hope of soon seeing them
equalled. The observance of such principles is in his conviction
the best means of disarming radicalism of whatever is dangerous
in its composition, and he would feel more completely at ease as
to the future prospects of this country could he feel more sure of
their being faithfully observed.

Mr. Gladstone is, and has been, but a learner through his life,
and he can claim no special gift of insight into the future : the
history of his life may not be flattering to his self-love, but he has
great consolation in believing that the great legislative acts of the
last half-century, in most of which he has had some share • . •

And here thefragmerU closes.

CRISIS ON THE SUGAR DUTIES, 1844

Page $67

In 1841 the whig c^vemment raised the question of the sugar
duties, and proposed to substitute a protective duty of 12/ per
cwt. for the actual or virtual prohibition of foreign sugars which
had up to that time subsisted. They were strongly opposed, and
decisively beaten. The argument used against them was, I think,
twofold. There was the protection plea on behalf of the West
Indians whose estates were now worked only by free labour —
and there was the great and popular contention that the measure
not only admitted sugar the product of slave labour, which we
would not allow our own colonies to employ, but that our new
supplies would be derived from Brazil, and above all from Cuba
and Puerto Rico, where the slave trade was rampant, and was

644 APPENDIX

prosecuted on an enormous scale. The goyemment of Sir B.
Peel largely modified our system. Its general professions were
the abolition of prohibition, and the reduction of protective duties
to a moderate rate. In 1844 it was determined to deal with the
sugar duties, and to admit sugar at, I think, a rate of 10/ per
cwt. beyond the rate for British-grown. But we had to bear in
mind me arguments of 1841, and it was determined that the
sugars so to be admitted were to be the product of free labour
only. ' There was some uncertainty from whence they were to
come. Java produced sugar largely, under a system involving
certain restraints, but as we contended essentially free. The
whole argument, however, was difficult and perplexed, and a
parliamentary combination was formed against the government
The opposition, with perfect consistency, mustered in full force.
The West Indian interest, which, though much reduced in wealth,
still subsisted as a parliamentary entity, was keenly arrayed on
the same side. There were some votes attracted by dislike,
perhaps, to the argument on our side, which appeared to be com-
plex and over-refined. A meeting of the party was held in order
to confront the crisis. Sir Robert Peel stated his case in a speech
which was thought to be haughW and unconciliatory. I do not
recollect whether there was hostile discussion, or whether silence
and the sulks prevailed. But I remember that when the meeting
of the party broke up. Sir Robert Peel said on quitting the room
that it was the worst meeting he had ever attended. It left
disagreeable anticipations as to the division which was in im-
mediate prospect. . . . The opposition in general had done what
they could to strengthen their momentary association ¥rith the
West Indian conservatives. Their hopes of a majority depended
entirely upon conservative votes. Of course, therefore, it was vital
to confine the attack to the merits of the question immediately
before the House, as an attack upon the policy of the government
generally could only strengthen it by awakening the susceptibilities
of party and so reclaiming the stray voters to the administration.
Lord Howick, entering into the debate as the hours of enhanced
interest began, made a speech which attacked the conservative
policy at large, and gave the opening for an effective reply. Lord
Stanley perceived his opportunity and turned it to account with
great force and adroitness. In a strictly retaliatory speech, he
wound up conservative sentiment on l>ehalf of ministers, and
restored the tone of the House. The clouds of the earlier evening
hours dispersed, and the government was victorious. Two
speeches, one negatively and the other positively, reversed the
prevailing current, and saved the administration. I have never
known a parallel case. The whole honour of the fray, in the
ministerial sense, redounded to Lord Stanley. I doubt whether in
the twenty-six years of his after life he ever struck such a stroke
as this.

COLONIAL POLICY 645

COLONIAL POLICY

Page S62

You have reversed, within the last seventy years, every one
of these salutary principles. Your policy has been this ; you have
retained at home the management of and property in colonial
lands. You have magnificent sums figuring in your estimates for
the ordinary expenses of their governments, instead of allowing
them to bear their own expenses. Instead of suffering them to
judge what are the measures best adapted to secure their peaceful
relations with the aboriginal tribes, and endeavouring to secure
their good conduct — instead of telling them that they must not
look for help from you unless they maintain the principles of
justice, you tell them, * You must not meddle with the relations
between yourselves and the natives ; that is a matter for parlia-
ment ' ; a minister sitting in Downing Street must determine how
the local relations between the inhabitants of the colony and the
aboriginal tribes are to be settled, in every point down to the
minutest detail. Nay, even their strictly internal police your
soldienr is often called upon to maintain. Then, again, the idea of
their electing their own officers is, of course, revolutionary in the
extreme — if not invading the royal supremacy, it is something
almost as bad, dismembering the empire ; and as to making their
own laws upon their local affairs without interference or control
from us, that is really an innovation so opposed to all ideas of
imperial policy, that I think mv honourable friend the member
for South wark (Sir William Moles worth) has been the first man
in the House bold enough to propose it. Thus, in fact, the
principles on which our colonial administration was once con-
ducted have been precisely reversed. Our colonies have come
to be looked upon as being, not municipalities endowed with
internal freedom, but petty states. If you had only kept to the
fundamental idea of your forefathers, that these were municipal
bodies founded within the shadow and cincture of your imperial
powers — that it was your business to impose on them such
positive restraints as you thought necessary, and having done so,
to leave them free in everything else — all those principles, instead
of being reversed, would have survived in full vigour — you would
have saved millions, I was going to say coimtless millions, to
your exchequer; but you would have done something far more
important by planting societies more worthy by far of the source
from which they spring ; for no man can read the history of the
great American Revolution without seeing that a hundred years
ago your colonies, such as they then were, with the institutions
they then possessed, and the political relations in which they then
stood to the mother-country, bred and reared men of mental
stature and power such as far surpassed anything that colonial life
is now commonly considered to be capable of producing. — Speech
on second reading of the New Zealand Constitution bill, May 21, 1852.

646 APPENDIX

FINANCIAL ABBAN6EMENTS OF 1868 AS AFFECTING
IBELAND

Page 465

When the report of the Irish Financial BekOions Commission o/189l
VHis named to himy Mr, Gladstone made the following observations : —

The changes adopted in that year were explained in my budget
speech, and will be found in my volume of Financial StatemenU^
pp. 53, 60, and 69. They affected the Spirit Duties and the
Income-Tax.

1. The Spirit Duties. — We laid 8d. per gallon upon Irish spirits,
imposed at the same time Is. per gallon in Scotland, and laid it
down that the equalisation of the duty in the three countries
would require a reduction of the duty of 8s. chargeable in England.
Sir Robert Peel had imposed Is. per gallon on Irish spirits in
1842, but was defeated by the smuggler, and repealed the duly in
consequence of the failure. In 1842 t^e duty was levied by a
separate revenue police. I abolished this separate police, and
handed the duty to the constabulary force, which raiised it, and
without difficulty.

2. The Income-Tax was also in that year extended to Ireland. 1
pointed out that Sir Robert Peel, in imposing the burden on Great
Britain, proposed to give a compensation for it by progressive
reductions of duty on consumable commodities, and that Ireland
had for twelve years enjoyed her full share of the compensation
without undergoing any part of the burden ; but I also laid it
down as a fundamental principle that the peace income-tax was to
be temporary, and I computed that it might cease in 1860. This
computation was defeated, first by the Crimean war, second by a
change of ideas as to expeuditure and establishments which I did
everything in my power to check, but which began to creep in
with, and after, that war. We were enabled to hold it in check
during the government of 1859-66. It has since that time, and
especially in these last years, broken all bounds. But although the
computation of 1853 was defeated, the principle that the income-
tax should be temporary was never forgotten, at least by me, and
in the year 1874 1 redeemed my pledge by proposing, as mentioned,
to repeal it — a course which would have saved the country a sum
which it is difficult to reckon, but very large. This fact which was
in the public mind in 1853 when the income-tax was temporary, is
the key to the whole position. From this point of view we must
combine it with the remission of the consolidated annuities. I have
not now the means of making the calculation exactly, but it will be
found that a descending income-tax on Ireland for seven years at
7d., then 6d., then 5d., is largely, though not completely, balanced
by that remission. It will thus be seen that the finance of 1853
is not responsible either for a permanent peace income-tax upon
Ireland, or for the present equalisation of the spirit duties. At the
same time, I do not mean to condemn those measures. I condemn
utterly the extravagance of the civil expenditure in Ireland, which,

FINANCIAL PROPOSAL OP 1863 647

if Ireland has been unjustly taxed, cannot for a moment be pleaded
as a compensation. I reserve my judgment whether political
equality can be made compatible with privilege in point of taxation.
I admit, for my own part, that in 1853 I never went back to the
union whence the difficulty springs, but only to the union of
the exchequers in or about 1817. It is impossible to resist the
authority which has now affirmed that we owe a pecuniary, as well
as a political debt to Ireland.

FINANCIAL PROPOSAL OF 1868

Page 47S

Mr. Gladstone to Sir Stafford Northcote

Aug, 6, 1862. — I have three main observations to make upon
the conversion scheme, two of which are confessions, and one a
maxim for an opposition to remember.

1. In the then doubtful state of foreign politics, had I been
capable of fully appreciating it at the time, I ought not to have
made the proposal.

2. Such a proposal when made by a government ought either
to be resisted outright, or allowed to pass, I do not say without
protest, but without delay. For that can do nothing but mischief
to a proposal depending on public impression. The same course
should be taken as is taken in the case of loans.

3. I am sorry to say I made a more serious error, as regards the
South Sea Stocks, than the original proposal. In the summer, I think,
of 1853, and a good while before harvest the company proposed to
me to take Mr. Goulburn's 3 per cents, to an equal amount in
lieu of their own. They were at the time more valuable and I
refused ; but it would have been wise to accept, not because the
event proved it so, but because the state of things at the time was
so far doubtful as to have made this kind of insurance prudent.

For the benefit of the expert, I give Mr, Gladstones further observa-
tions on this highly technical matter : —

I have other remarks to offer. I write, however, from memory.
Three millions of the £8,000,000 were paid in exchequer bills.
The difference between £100 and the price of consols at the time
may, in argument at least, fairly be considered as public loss.
You say it was 90 or 91. We could not, however, if the operation
had not taken place, have applied our surplus revenue with ad-
vantage to the reduction of debt. The balances would have been
richer by £5,000,000, but we had to raise seven millions for the
services of the vear 1854-5. Now, as I am making myself liable
for the loss of half a million of money in repaying the South Sea
Company, and thereby starving the balances, I am entitled to say
on the other hand that the real loss is to be measured by the
amount of necessity created for replenishing them, and the charge
entailed in effecting it. This I think was done by the exchequer

648 APPENDIX

bonds : and beyond all doubt a large saying was effected to the
pablic by raising money upon those bonds, instead of borrowing
in consols at 84 or thereabouts, which I think would have been the
price for which we should in that year have borrowed — say, at 81
The redemption price, i.e. the price at which on the average
consols have been in recent times redeemed, can hardly I think be
less than 95, and may be higher. There was in 1854 a strong
combination in the City to compel a *loan' by bearing the
funds ; and when it was defeated by the vote of the House of
Commons, a rapid reaction took place, several millions, as I under-
stand, were lost by the 'bear,' and the attempt was not renewed
in 1855, when the loan was, I believe, made on fair terms, relatively
to the state of the market.

THE BEFOBM BILL OF 1864

Page 491

In cabinet on Wednesday Lord John Russell opened the question
of the Reform bill, stated the prospect of defeat on Sir E. Dering's
motion, and expressed his willingness to postpone the measure
until the 27th April. Lord Palmerston recommended postpone-
ment altogether. Lord Aberdeen and Graham were averse to any
postponement, the latter even declaring his opinion that we ought
at the time when the Queen's Speech was framed to have assumed
the present state of circumstances as inevitable, and that, there-
fore, we had no apology or ground for change ; further, that we
ought if necessary to dissolve upon defeat in order to carry the
measure. No one el se went this length. All the three I have named
were, from their different points of view, disposed to concur in the
expedient of postponement, which none of them preferred on its
merits. Of the rest of the cabinet, Molesworth and I expressed
decidedly our preference for the more decided course of at once
giving up the bill for the year, as did the chancellor, and this for the
ultimate interest of the plan itself. Lord Lansdowne, Wood, Claren-
don, Herbert were all, with more or less decision of phrase, in the
same sense. Newcastle, Granville, and Argyll were, I believe, of the
same mind. But all were willing to accept the postponement until
April 27, rather than the very serious alternative. Molesworth
and I both expressed our apprehension that this course would in
the end subject the government to far more of censure and of
suspicion than if we dealt with the difficulty at once. Next day
Lord John came to see me, and told me he had the idea that in
April it might probably be found advisable to divide the part
of the bill which enfranchises new classes from that which dis-
franchises places and redistributes seats ; with a view of passing
the first and letting the latter take its chance ; as the popular feel-
ing would tell for the first while the selfish interests were provoked
by the last. He thought that withdrawal of the bill was equivalent
to defeat, and that either must lead to a summary winding up of

OIYIL SEBYICB BBFOBM 649

the session. I said the division of the bill was a new idea and a
new light to me; but observed that it would bv no means help
Graham, who felt himself chiefly tied to the disfranchising part ;
and submitted to him that his view of a withdrawal of the biU,
^ven sach circumstances as would alone induce the cabinet to
bhiuk of it, was more unfavourable than the case warranted—
March 3, 1854.

CIVIL SBBVICB BEFOBM

Fage 611

Extracts from a letter to Lord John BtisseUy Jan, 20, 1854

... I do not hesitate to say that one of the great recommenda-
tions ot the change in my eyes would be its tendency to strengthen
and multiply the ties between the higher classes and the possession
of administrative power. As a member for Oxford, I Iook forward
eagerly to its operation. There, happily, we are not without some
lights of experience to throw upon this part of the subject. The
objection which I always hear there from persons who wish to
retain restrictions upon elections is this : * If you leave them to
examination, Eton, Harrow, Kugby, and the other public schools
will carry everything,' I have a strong impression that the
aristocracy of this country are even superior in natural gifts, on
the average, to the mass: but it is plain that with their acquired
advantages, their insensible educaiionj irrespective of book-learning,
they have an immense superiority. This applies in its degree to all
those who may be called gentlemen by birth and training ; and it
must be remembered that an essential part of any such plan as is
now under discussion is the separation of workj wherever it can
be made, into mechanical and intellectual, a separation which will
open to the highly educated class a career, and give them a
command over all the higher parts of the civil service, which up to
this time they have never enjoyed. . . .

I must admit that the aggregate means now possessed by

government for carrying on business in the House of Commons

are not in excess or the real need, and will not bear serious

diminution. I remember being alarmed as a young man when

Lord Althorp said, or was said to have said, that this country could

no longer be governed by patronage. But while sitting thirteen

years for a borough with a humble constituency, and spending

near ten of them in opposition, I was struck by finding that the

loss or gain of access to government patronage was not traceable

in its effect upon the local political influences. I concluded from

this that it was not the intrinsic value of patronage (which is really

none, inasmuch as it does not, or ought not, to multiply the

aggregate number of places to be given, but only acts on the

mode of giving them) that was regarded, but simply that each

party liked and claimed to be upon a footing of equality with

their neighbours. Just in the same way, it was considered neces-

650 APPENDIX

sary that bandsmen, flagmen, and the rest, should be paid four
times the value of their services, without any intention of brib^,
but because it was the custom, and was done on the other side—
in places where this was thought essential, it has now utterly
vanished away, and yet the people vote and work for their cause
as zealously as they did before. May not this after all be found
to be the case in the House of Commons as well as in many
constituencies? . . .

It might increase the uncertainties of the government in the
House of Commons on particular nights ; but is not the hold eyen
now uncertain as compared with what it was thirty or forty years
ago ; and is it really weaker for general and for good purposes, on
account of that uncertainty, than it then was? I have heard you
explain with great force to the House this change in the position of
governments since the Reform bill, as a legitimate accompaniment
of changes in our political state, by virtue of which we appeal more
to reason, less to nabit, direct interest, or force. May not this be
another legitimate and measured step in the same direction ? May
we not get, I will not say more ease and certainty for the leader of
the House, but more real and more honourable strength with the
better and, in the long run, the ruling part of the community, by a
signal proof of cordial desire that the processes by which govern-
ment is carried on should not in elections only, but elsewhere too
be honourable and pure ? I speak with diffidence ; but remember-
ing that at the revolution we passed over from prerogative to
patronage, and that since the revolution we have also pa^ed from
bribery to influence, I cannot think the process is to end here; and
after all we have seen of the good sense and good feeling of the
community, though it may be too sanguine, I cherish the hope
that the day is now near at hand, or actually come, when in
pursuit not of visionary notions, but of a great practical and
economical improvement, we may safely give yet one more new and
striking sign of rational confidence in the intelligence and character
of the people.

MR. GLADSTONE AND THE BANK

Page 519

From the time I took office as chancellor of the exchequer 1
began to learn that the state held in the face of the Bank and the
City an essentially false position as to finance. When those rela-
tions began, the state was justly in ill odour as a fraudulent
bankrupt who was ready on occasion to add force to fraud. After
the revolution it adopted better methods though often for unwise
purposes, and in order to induce monied men to be lenders it came
forward under the countenance of the Bank as its sponsor. Hence
a position of subserviency which, as the idea of public faith grew
up and gradually attained to solidity, it became the interest of Uie
Bank and the City to prolong. This was done by amicable and
accommodating measures towards the government, whose position

DUKB OF NEWCASTLE AND SIDNEY HERBERT 651

was thus cushioned and made easy in order that4t might be willing
to give it a continued acquiescence. The hinge of the whole situa-
tion was tiiiB : the government itself was not to be a substantive
power in matters of finance, but was to leave the money power
supreme and unquestioned. In the conditions of that situation I
was reluctant to acquiesce, and I began to fight against it by
financial self-assertion from the first, though it was only by the
establishment of the Post Office Savings Banks and their great pro-
gressive development that the finance minister has been provided
with an instrument sufficiently powerful to make him independent
of the Bank and the City power when he has occasion for sums in
seven figures. I was tenaciously opposed by the governor and
deputy-governor of the Bank, who had seats in parliament, and I
had the City for an antagonist on almost every occasion. — Undated
fragment,

THE DUKE OP NEWCASTLE AND SIDNEY HERBERT
Page 6S1

With reference to the Crimean war, I may give a curious example
of the power of self-deception in the most upright men. The offices
of colonial secretary and war minister were, in conformity with
usage, united in the hands of the Duke of Newcastle. On the out-
break of war it became necessary to separate them. It evidently
lay with the holder to choose which he would keep. The duke
elected for the war department, and publicly declared that he did
this in compliance with the imanimous desire of his colleagues.
And no one contradicted him. We could only * grin and bear it.'
I cannot pretend to know the sentiments of each and every minister
on the matter. But I myself, and every one with whom I happened
to communicate, were very strongly of an opposite opinion. The
duke was well qualified for the colonial seals, for he was a states-
man ; ill for the war office, as he was no administrator. I believe
we all desired that Lord Palmerston should have been war minister.
It might have made a difference as to the tolerance of the feeble
and incapable administration of our army before Sebastopol. In-
deed, I remember hearing Lord Palmerston suggest in cabinet the
recall of Sir Richard Airy.

In that crisis one man suffered most unjustly. I mean Sidney
Herbert. To some extent, perhaps, his extraordinary and most
just popularity led people to refrain from pouring on him those
vials of wrath to which his office exposed him in the eyes especially
of the uninformed. The duties of his department were really
financial. I suppose it to be doubtful whether it was not the duty
of the secretary of state's department to deal with the question of
supply for the army, leaving to him only the management of the
purcliasing part. But I conceive it could be subject to no doubt
at all that it was the duty of the administrative department of the
army on the spot to anticipate and make known their wants for
the coming winter. This, if my memory serves me, they wholly

652 APPENDIX

failed to do : and, the Duke of Newcastle's staff being in truth rezj
little competent, Herbert strained himself morning, noon, and
night to invent wants for the army, and according to his best
judgment or conjecture to supply them. So was laden the great
steamer which went to the bottom in the harbour of Balaclava.
And so came Herbert to be abused for his good deeds. —^uto^M)-
graphic Note^ Sept. 17, 1897.

THE CBIHEAN WAB

Page 646

Mr. Gladstone to Duke of Argyll

Oct. 18, '56. — You have conferred a great obligation on me by
putting me into the witness-box, and asking me why I thought last
year that we were imder an obligation to Lord Palmerston for 'cod-
centrating the attention of the cabinet on the expedition to the
Crimea.' Such was then my feeling, entertained so strongly that
I even wrote to him for the purpose of giving to it the most direct
expression. And such is my feeling stiU. I think the fall of
Sevastopol, viewed in itself and apart from the mode in which it
has been brought about, a great benefit to Europe. . . . This
benefit I should have contemplated with high and, so to speak,
unmixed satisfaction, were I well assured as to the means by which
we had achieved it. But, of course, there is a great difference
between a war which I felt, however grievous it was, yet to be just
and needful, and a war carried on without any adequate justiBca-
tion; so far as I can to this hour tell, without even any well-defined
practical object. . . . Your letter (if I must now pass from the
defensive) seems to me to involve assumptions as to our right
to rectify the distribution of political power by bloodshed, which
carry it far beyond just bounds. In the hour of success doctrines
and policy are applauded, or pass unquestioned even under mis-
giving, which are very differently handled at a period of disaster,
or when a nation comes to feel the embarrassments it has accumu-
lated. The government are certainly giving effect to the public
opinion of the day. If that be a justification, they have it : as all
governments of England have had, in all wars, at eighteen months
from their commencement. Apart from the commanding considera-
tion of our duty as men and Christians, I am not less an objector
to the post-April-policy, on the ground of its certain or probable
consequences — in respect first and foremost to Turkey ; in respect
to the proper place and power of France ; in respect to the interest
which Europe has in keeping her (and us all) within such place and
power ; in respect to the permanence of our friendly relations with
ner ; and lastly, in respect to the effects of continued war upon the
condition of our own people, and the stability of our institutions.
But each of these requires an octavo volume. I must add another
head : I view with alarm the future use against England of the
arguments and accusations we use against Russia.

THE CBIMEAK WAB 658

Dec. 1. — What I find press hardest among the reproaches upon
me is this : — * You went to war for limited objects ; why did you
not take into account the high probability that those objects would
be lost sight of in the excitement which war engenders, and that
this war, if once begun, would receive an extension far beyond
your views and wishes ? '

Dec. 3. — I do mean that the reproach I named is the one most
nearly just. What the weight due to it is, I forbear finally to
judge until I see tiie conclusion of this tremendous drama. But I
quite see enough to be aware that the particular hazard in question
ought to have been more sensibly and clearly before me. It may
\}e good logic and good sense, I think, to say : — 'I will forego ends
that are just, for fear of being driven upon the pursuit of others
that are not so.' Whether it is so in a particular case depends very
much upon the probable amount of the driving power, and of the
resisting force which may be at our command.

CHRONOLOGY'

Beo. 13.

Jan.

26.

March

6.

April

30.

May

17.

91

21.

June
July

8.
4.

»»

8.

" 25 and

Aug.

6.

1832.
Elected member for New-
ark, — Gladstone, 887 ;
Handley, 7»8; Wilde,
726.

1833.

Admitted a law student at
Lincoln's Inn.

Elected member of Carlton
Club.

Speaks on a Newark peti-
tion.

Appointed on Colchester
election committee.

Presents an Edinburgh
petition against immedi-
ate abolition of slavery.

On Slavery Abolition bill

On Liverpool election peti-
tion.

Opposes Church Reform
(Ireland) bill.

29. On negro apprentice-
ship system.

Serves on select committee
on stationary office.

Moves for return on Irish
education.

1834.

Mar.

12 and 19. On bill disenfran-
chising Liverpool free-
men.

June 4. Serves on select committee
on education in England.

July 28. Opposes Universities Ad-
mission bill.

Dec. 26. Junior lord of the treasury
in Sir R. Peel's ministry.

1835.

Jan. 6. Returned unopposed for
Newark.
" 27. Under-Secretary for war
and the colonies.

1835.

March 4. Moves for, and serves on,
a committee on miU-
tary expenditure Id the
colonies.
" 19. Brings in Colonial Puien-
gers' bill for improTing
condition of emigrants.
" 81. In defence of Irish church,
June 11. Entertained at Newark.
" 22, July 20. Criticises Municipal
Corporation bill.
Aug. 21. Defends House of Lords.
Sept. 23. Death of his mother.

1836.

Feb. 8.

A member of AborigineB
committee.
March 22. On negro apprenticeship
in Jamaica.
** 28. A member of negro ap-
prenticeship committee.
1. On Tithes and Church

(Ireland) bill.
8. A member of select com-
mittee on disposal of
land in the colonies.
18. Speaks at dinner of Liver-
pool Tradesmen's Con-
servative Association.
21. Speaks at dinner of Liver-
pool Operatives* Con-
servative Association.

June

Oct.

1837.

Jan. 13.

Feb.

Speaks at Peel banquet at
Glasgow.
17. Speaks at Newark.
10. Moves for return showing
religious instruction in
the colonies.
March 7. A member of committee
on Irish education.
On affairs of Lower Canada.
In support of church rates.

8.
16.

1 All speeches unless otherwise stated were nuule in the House of Commons.

664

OHBOKOLOGY

666

1837.

nl 28. A member of colonial ao-
counts committee.

21. At Newark on Poor Law.
24. Retomed unopposed for

Newark.
27. Defeated for Manchester, —
Thomson, 4127 ; PhUipa,
3760; Gladstone, 2324.

g^. 9. Speaks at dinner at Man-
chester.

;. 12. Member of committee on
education of poor chil-
dren.

22. On Canadian discontent.

1838.

L. 23. On Canadian affairs.

rch 7. Criticises action of goyera-
ment in Canada.

* 30. In defence of West Indian
sugar planters.

le 20. On private bill to facilitate
colonisation of New
Zealand.

y 10. Moves for a commission
on grievances of Cape
colonists.
11 and 23. Opposes the appoint-
ment of dissenting chap-
lains in prisons.
27. A member of committee

on Scotch education.
30. Opposes grant to May-
nooth College.

g. Visits the continent. Oct

in Sicily ; Dec. in Rome.

c. The Churchinits BelcUions

vHth the State, published.

1839.

1. 81. Returns to England.

r. 16. Withdraws from Lincoln^s

Inn.
y 6. Opposes Suspension of the

«famaica constitution,
le 10. Opposes bill for temporary

government of Jamaica.
20. Criticises the proposal for

a board of education,
y 26. Married to Miss Catherine

Glynne at Hawarden.

1840.

,r. 30- April 4. Examiner at Eton
for Newcastle scholar-
ship.

ril 8. Denounces traffic in opium
and Chinese war.

' 8. A member of committee
on opium question.

May

29.

June

3.

9»

16.

»1
19

2&

29,

July

9.

If
Sept.

27.

18.

Nov.

Jan. 20.
March 31.

ApriL

May

10.

July

29.

Sept.

8.

»»

14.

Feb.

14.

1»

26.

Mard]

I 9.

April

16.

May

13.

>i

23.

June
♦»

Sept

8.
14.
18.

1840.

In support of Govemmaiit
of Canada bill

Eldest son, William Henry,
bom.

On Canadian Clergy Re-
serves bilL

On sugar duties.

July 20. Opposes Ecclesi-
astical Revenues bill.

A member of select com-
mittee on colonisation
of New Zealand.

Denounces traffic in opium.

Speaks at Liverpool on
religious education.

Church Principles eon-
iidered in their Besults,
published.

1841.

On the com laws at Walsall.

Proposes rejection of bill
admitting Jews to cor-
porate office.

Revised edition of T?ie
Church in its Relations
toith the State, published.

Opposes reduction of duty
on foreign sugar.

Re-elected for Newark,—
Mr. Gladstone, 633 ;
Lord John Manners,
630; Mr. Hobhouse,394.

Appointed vice-president
of the board of trade.

Retumed unopposed for
Newark.

1842.

Proposes colonial trade
resolutions, and brings
in bill for better regula-
tion of railways.

Replies to Lord J. Russell's
condemnation of govern-
ment's proposids for
amending com law.

Opposes Mr. Christopher's
liiding scale amendment

On second reading of com
law importation bilL

On Colonial Customs
Duties bill.

On preferential duties for
colonial goods.

On importation of live
cattle.

On sugar duties.

On export duty on coaL

Loses finger of left hand
in gun accident

656

OHBONOLOGT

Jan.

Feb. la

April 26.

May 9.

»• 16.

tt

10.

June

13.

Aug.

10.

Oot.

Feb.

6.

ICaich

4.

»»

7.

»» 12.

10.

ApriL

•• 4.
May 18.

1843.

AnonymoDB article, *The
Course of Commercial
Policy at Home and
Abroad,' in Foreign and
Colonial Quarterly Be-
view.

Inaugural address at
opening of Collegiate
Institute, Liverpool.

Replies to Viscount How-
ick on the com law.

Opposes Mr. Ricardo^s
motion for immediate
free trade.

Opposes Mr. Yilliers's
motion for the imme-
diate abolition of com
laws.

Attends first cabinet as
president of the board
of trade.

Supports bill reducing
duty on Canadian com.

Opposes Lord J. Ruasell^s
motion for fixed duty on
imported com.

Moves second reading of
bill legalising exporta-
tion of machinery.

* Present Aspects of the*
Church' in Foreign and
Colonial Beffiew.

1844.

Moves for select committee
on railways.

On recommendations of
committee on railways.

On slave trade and com-
mercial relations with
Brazil.

Replies to Mr. Cobden's
speech on his motion
for committee on pro-
tective duties.

On reciprocity in com-
mercial treaties.

Opposes motion to extend
low duty on Canadian
com to colonial wheat.

'On Lord John Russell's
Translation of the Fran-
cesca da Rimini,' in the
English Beview,

Outlines provisions of
Joint Stock Companies
Regulation biU.

Second son, Stephen Ed-
ward, bom.

Presides at Eton anniver-
sary dinner.

1844.

June 8. On sugar duties bill
" 0. In support of Disseoten'

Chapels bilL
»» 26. Opposes Mr. • Villien's
motion for abolltioD of
com laws.

July. Review of ' Ellen Middle-

ton,' in English Benev.
" 8. On second reading of Rtil-
ways bilL

Aug. 6. Introduces three hills for
regulating private bill
procedure.

Oct 'The Theses of EraBtoi

and the Scottish Chnitb
Establishment' in the
New Quarterly Beview.

Deo. On Mr. Ward's 'Ideal

Church,' in Qvoiteriy
Beview.

1845.

Jan. 28. Retires from cabinet

Feb. 4. Personal explanation.
" 24. In favour of discriminating

duties on sugar.
" 26. Defends distinction be-
tween free-labour and
slave-labour sugar.

March. Bemarks upon recent
Commerei€U Legislation,
published.

April 11. On second reading of May-
nooth College bill

June. Review of 'Life of Ifr.
Blanco White,' in Quar-
terly.
" 2. Supports Academical In-
stitutions (Ireland) bill

July 16. On Spanish treaties ind
slave- labour sugar.

Sept 25-Nov. 18. Visits Germany.

Dec * Scotch Ecclesiastical Af-

fairs,' in the QuarttHi
" 23. Colonial secretary.

Publishes, A JUanual of
Prayers from tht
Liturgy, Arranged for
Family Use.

1846.
Jan. 6. Retires from the repre-
sentation of Newark.

1847.
June ' From Oxford to Rome ^ in

the Quarterly.
" 7. Captain Gladstone defends
his brother's action in
recalling Sir Eardky
Wilmot

CHBONOLOGT

657

1847.

Aug. a Elected for Oxford Uni-
versity,— Sir R. iDglis,
1700 ; \V. E. Gladstone,
997 ; Mr. Kound, 824.

Sept. On Lachmann^s ^Ilias* in

the Quarterly,

Dec. 8. Supports Roman Catliolic
Relief bill.
•• 13. On government of New

Zealand.
*' 16. In favour of admission of
Jews to parliament

1848.

Feb. 9 and 14. On New Zealand Gov-
ernment bill.
** 16. On Roman Catholic Relief
bill.
March 10. On recent commercial

changes.
April 3. On repeal of Navigation
laws, criticising govern-
ment's proposal.
" 4. On episcopal revenues.
" 10. Serves as special constable.
'' 22. Moves address to the Queen
at vestry of St. Martin V
in-the-Fields.
May 16. In favour of increasing
usefulness of cathedrals.
•' 23. Replies to Lord G. Ben-
tinck on free trade.
June 2. In favour of freedom of
navigation.
" 22. Opposes reduction of sugar
duties.
Aug. 17. In favour of legalising
diplomatic relations with
the Vatican.
" 18. On Vancouver's Island,
and free colonisation.
Dec. On the Duke of Argyll's

Presbytery Ezamiwd in
the Quarterly.

1849.

Feb.

19. On revision of parliamen-
tary oaths.
" 22, May 2. In favour of Clergy
Relief bill.
March 8. On transportation of con-
victs.
'* 12. On Navijration laws.
'' 13. On church rates.
" 27. In favour of scientific
colonisation at St. Mar-
tin's-in-the-Fields.
16. On colonial administra-
tion.
VOL. I — 2u

April

1849.

May 10. Defends right of parlia-
ment to interfere in
colonial affairs.

" 24. In favour of better govern-
ment of colonies.
June 4. On Australian Colonies
bill.

" 14. Protests against compen-
sating Canadian rebels.

" 20. Opposes bill legalising
marriage with deceased
wife's sister.

" 26. Explains views on colonial
questions and policy.
July 6. Moves for inquiry into
powers of Hudson Bay
Company.

" 13-Aug. 9. Visits Italy : Rome,
Naples, Como.
Dec. 'The Clergy Relief Bill'

in Quarterly.

Feb. 8.

'» 21.

March.

" 19.

»' 22.

April 9.

May 6.

" 13.

" 81.

June 4.

" 27.

July

3.

8.

11

16.

11

18.

1860.

In favour of double cham-
ber constitutions for
colonies.

On causes of agricultural
distress, in support of
Mr. Disraeli's motion.

* Giacomo Leopardi ' in the
Quarterly.

On suppression of slave
trade.

On principles of colonial
policy.

Death of bis daughter,
Catherine Jessy.

In favour of colonial self-
government, and ecclesi-
astical constitution for
church in Australia.

Moves that Australian
Government bill be sub-
mitted to colonists.

In favour of differential
sugar duties.

Letter to Bishop of Lon-
don : BemarkB on the
Boyal Supremaqf.

Attacks Lord Palmer-
ston's foreign policy in
Don Pacifico debate.

On death of Sir R. Peel.

Criticises Ecclesiastical
Commission bill.

Explains plan for creation
of new bishoprics.

Opposes commission of
inquiry into English and
Irish universities.

658

CHBOKOLOGT

1850.

Aug. 1. 'Last earnest protest*
against Australian Col-
onies Government bill.

Oct. 26. Leaves England for
Naples.

Feb. 26.

March 25.
April 11.

" 15.

May

29.

June

80.

July

4.

i»

10.

i»

19.

»»

Dec.

7.

»»

1851.

Returns to England from
Naples. Declines Lord
Stanley^s invitation to
join his government.

Opposes Ecclesiastical
Titles Assumption bill.

On financial plans to re-
lieve agricultural dis-
tress.

Opposes appointment of
committee on relations
with Kaffir tribes.

On grievances of inhabit-
ants of Ceylon.

Opposes Inhabited House
Duty bill.

Protests against Ecclesi-
astical Titles bill.

On Rajah Brooke's methods
of suppressing piracy.

On discipline in colonial
church.

Publishes two letters to
Lord Aberdeen on Nea-
politan misgovernment.

Death of Sir John Glad-
stone at Fasque.

Letter to Dr. Skinner,
Bishop of Aberdeen, On
the functions of laymen
in the Church,

Translation of Farini's
The Boman State, 1815
to 1850, vols. i. and ii.
published.

1852.

Jan.

29. Publishes An Examination
of the Official Beply of
the Neapolitan Govern-
ment.
Feb. 20. Brings in Colonial Bishops

bill.
March 15. On free trade.
AprU. On Farini's * Stato Romano/
in Edinburgh Review.
" 2. Third son, Henry Neville,

born.
" 5. Protests against policy of

Kaffir war.
" 28. Moves second reading of
Colonial Bishops biU.

1852.

April ao. On Mr. Disraeli's bod^

statement.
May 10. Proposes rejection of bill
to assign disenfranchised
seats of St. Albaofl and
Sudbury.

'* 11. In favour of select com-
mittee on education at
Maynooth College.

" 12. On paper duty.

" 21. On New Zealand GoTern.
ment bill.
June 8 and 10. Defends action of
Bishop of Bath and Wells
in the case of Frome
vicarage.

'* 23. Brings in bill to amend
colonial church laws.
July 14. Re-elected for Oxford
University, — Sir. R.
Inglis, 1368 ;W.E. Glad,
stone, 1108; Dr. Mar-
sham, 758.
Nov. 11, 26. In defence of principles of
free trade.

*' 26. Defends Sir R. Peel's free
trade policy.
Dec. * Count Montalembert on

Catholic Interests in the
Nineteenth Century* in
the Quarterly.

" 6. Attacks government's in-
come-taz proposals.

" 16. Replies to Mr. Disraeli's
speech in defence of Lis
budget proposals.

" 23. Appointed chancellor of
the exchequer.

1853.

Jan. 20. Re-elected for Oxford
University, — W. E.
Gladstone, 1022 ; Mr.
Perceval, 898.
March 3. Speech on Mr. Hume's
motion for repeal of all
protective import dutiea.
" 4 and 18. On Clergy reserves

(Canada) bill.
" 28. At Mansion House banquet,
on public opinion and
public finance.
April 4. On government's proposal
to improve education in
England and Wales.
" 8. Explains nature of pro-
posals for conversion of
portion of national debt
" 8. On Irish taxation.

CHBONOLOGY

659

April 14.

«9

18.
22.

May

9.

♦1

12.

June

23.
13.

July

1.

Aug.

29.
3.

SepU

27.

Oct.

12.

1853.

Opposes motion for repeal
of advertisement duty,
newspaper stamp tax,
and paper duty on finan-
cial grounds.

Introduces his first budget.

Defends South Sea com-
mutation bill.

Opposes amendment, in the
interest of property, to
income-tax.

Explains changes proposed
in succession duties.

On taxation of Ireland.

Moves second reading of
Savings Bank bill ; and
July 21.

Proposes reduction of ad-
vertisement duty to six-
pence.

On South Sea Annuities.

On Colonial Church Regu-
lation bill.

At Dingwall and Inverness,
on results of free trade
and evils of war.

Tribute to memory of Sir
R. Peel at unveiling of
statue at Manchester.
At town hall on Russo-
Turkish question.

1854.

Jan.

Fourth son, Herbert John,
bom.
March 6. Introduces budget

" 17. In support of Oxford
University bill.
Replies to Mr. Disraeli^s
attack on his financial
schemes.
At Mansion House banquet
on war and finance.
April 7. On second reading of
Oxford University
bill.
'* 11. Statement on public ex-
penditure and income.
Introduces war budget.
Defends resolution em-
powering government to
issue two millions of ex-
chequer bonds against
criticism of Mr. Disraeli.
26. On second reading of bill
for revision of parlia-
mentary oaths.
29. On withdrawal of Bribery
Preyention bills.

May

21.

26.

8.
22.

1854.

June 2. Explains provisions of
Revenue and Consoli-
dated Fund Charges bill.

On proposal to abolish
church rates.

Brings in bill for repeal of
usury laws.

On the Crimean war.

Moves resolution for regu-
lation of interest on Sav-
ings Bank deposits.

Dec.

21.

29.

13.
2.

1855.

Jan.

Roebuck^B

Feb.

April

May

June.

July

Aug.
Oct.

Not.

of

Sir

29. Opposes Mr.
motion.

6. Explains reasons for gov-
ernment's resignation.
'' 22. Withdraws from cabinet
'* 23. Explains reasons.
March 19. Explains methods adopted
to meet war expenditure.
" 19, In favour of free press.
•' 26. Defends government
Sardinia in debate
military convention.

20. Criticises budget of
G. C. Lewis.

26. On principles of taxation.

30. Criticises government Loan
bill

9. Opposes bill for amend-
ment of marriage law.

21. Moves adjournment of
debate to discuss Vienna
conferences.

24. On prosecution of the war.
* Sardinia and Rome,' in
Quarterly.

16. On civil service reform.

16. Statement as to Aberdeen
government, and terms
of peace.

10. In favour of open admis-
sion to civil service.
20, 23, and 27. Protests against
the system of subsidies,
on the guarantee of
Turkish loan.
3. On Vienna negotiations.

12. Lecture on Colonial Policy
at Hawarden.

12. Lecture on Colonies at
Chester.

1856.

Feb. 29. On report of Crimean
commissioners.

April 11. Condemns government pro-
posals for national edu-
cation.

660

CHBONOLOGY

1856.

April 24. On civil service reform.

May 6. On treaty of peace.
" 19. Criticisfs budget

July 1. On differences with the
United States govern-
ment on recruiting for
the British army.
»• 11. Criticises County Courts

Amendment bill
" 23. Strongly opposes the
Bishops of London
and Durham Retirement
bill.

Aug. * The War and the Peace '

in Gentleman'' 8 Magazine.

Sept. *The Declining Efificiency

of Parliament* in the
Quarterly.
" 29. At town hall, Mold, in
support of Foreign Mis-
sionary Society ; in the
evening at Collegiate
Institution, Liverpool,
for Society for Propaga-
tion of the Gospel.

1857.

Jan.

* Homer and His Successors
in Epic Poetry,' and
* Prospects Political and
Financial ' in Quarterly,
" 31. At Stepney, on duty of
rich to poor.
Feb. 3. Criticises government's
foreign policy and finan-
cial measures.
" 6. In support of motion to

appoint committee on the
Hudson Bay Company.
Nominated member of
the committee.
" 20. Condemns budget of Sir
G. C. Lewis.
March 3. Supports Mr. Cobden's
resolution on China.
" 6. Proposes reduction of tea
duty, and condemns Sir
G. C. Lewis's financial
proposals.
" 10. Moves resolution in favour
of revising and reducing
expenditure.
" 27. Returned unopposed for
Oxford University.
April. *The New Parliament and

its Work ' in Quarterly.
June 2. Speaks at Oxford at in-
auguration of Diocesan
Spiritual Help Society.

1857.

July.

* The Bill for Divorce,' and
* Homeric Characters In
and Out of Homer' m
Quarterly.

" 9. At Glenalmond College on

Christian and Clascal
education.

" 16. On the Persian war.

" 17. Denounces war with CliiDa.

" 21. On Lord J. Russeirs Oaths
Validity Act Ameiai-
ment bill

" 22, Aug. 4. Criticises and mores
amendments t«> Biiriais
Act Amendment bil).

'^ 24. Explains strong objectioas
to Divorce and Maci-
monial Causes bill.

" 29. Opposes Superaniiuatk-a
Act Amendment b II.

" 81. Opposes second reading; of
the Divorce bill.
Aug. 7. Protests against uneqcal
treatment of men tad
women in Divorce Mil.

" 12. Supports continuance 'f
tea and sugar duti- >.

" 14. On Balkan Princii aii.ts.

" 14. Personal explanation re-
garding his connecuou
with Lord Lincolr.'*
divorce.
Oct. 12. At Chester, on duty c>f
England to India.

" 22. At Liverpool, unrlii2cii>*ff
connection botwetn :Lf
great manufactunr:

towns and the uniTcr-
sities.
Dec. 4 and 7. Criticises the Bant
Issues Indemnity bill

" 9. Protests a£rain.-^t pro]xisaI
to increase pensiVu 'i
Sir Henry Havel tk.

" 11. On appointment cf ^'.-^-
committee on Bank Au.

1858.

Feb. 19. Opposes Conspiracy ^ \

Murder bill. |

March. Studies in Ilom^r '^^■

the Homeric Ao^ ^^

lished.
April. » The Fall of the Late M >

istry ' in Quartcrh.
" 19. On Mr. Disraeli's W^

statement.
21, Junes. Criticises Church K:.'-

Abolition bill.

GHBONOLOG7

661

1868.

jiril 26 and 30. On proposals for
government of India.

.ay 3. On financial condition of

the country.
» 3, June 7, 14, 17, and July 1.
On government of India.

*' 4. Moves address on Danubian
Principalities.

** 21. Defends Lord Canning
in debate on the Oude
Proclamation.

ane 1. On the Suez Canal, con-
demning English inter-
ference with the project.

" 28. Supports Funded Debt bill,
^uly 1 and 5. Proposes additional
clause to Universities
(Scotland) bill facilitat-
ing the creation of a
national university.

" 6. Moves that the army of
India be not employed
beyond the frontiers of
India without permis-
sion of parliament.

" 19. On Government of British
Columbia bill.

'' 20. On Hudson Bay Company.
Oct. *The Past and Present

Administrations ^ in
Quarterly.

" 17. Address at Liverpool on
university extension.
Nov. 8. Leaves England for Corfu,
on appointment as lord
high commissioner ex-
traordinary of the Ionian
Islands.
Dec. 3. Addresses Ionian Assembly.

1859.

Feb. 5. Presents new constitution
to Ionian Chamber of
Deputies.

Feb.

12.

March

8.
20.

April.

18.
29.

June

17

»i

20.

n

22.

July 1.

12.

11

18.
21.

Aug.

8.

Oct.

Nov.

1.

12.

Dec.

1859.

Returned unopposed for
Oxford University.

Returns to London.

On Representation of the
People bill.

» The War in Italy ' in the
Quarterly,

On the state of Italy.

Returned unopposed for
Oxford University.

Letter to the provost of
OrieL

Appointed chancellor of
^e exchequer.

Presides at annual dinner
of Royal Literary
Fund.

Re - elected for Oxford
University, — Mr. Glad-
stone, 1060 ; Marquis of
Chandos, 859.

Supports bill enabling
Roman catholics to hold
office of chancellor of
Ireland.

Introduces budget.

Replies to Mr. Disraeli^s
criticisms.

In defence of government's
Italian policy.

On * Tennyson's Poems' in
Quarterly.

At Cambridge, in support
of Oxford and Cam-
bridge mission to Cen-
tral Africa.

Elected Lord Rector of
University of Edin-
burgh, — Mr. Gladstone,
643 ; Lord Neaves,
627.

* Nelda, a Romance/ trans-
lated from Grossi, in
Fraser's Magazine,

. BQOICmNOINa oo.

r"oos" W 3G92

v.l

cop. "5

DATE DUE

SPRING 1979

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